Janette Parr: ‘April’
April
The swaying gums whisper their scent
and darting wrens pierce the heated air
Your nearness awakens my silent spirit
and quickens a life that hovers there
A shimmering arc of misted water
falls trembling on a grateful alien leaf
And there, a mind can sip, refreshed,
in glistening cool relief
And wine makes songs on autumn evenings
Sings to violet, gold-edged skies
While sweet-edged warmth slips closer in
and softens new love’s eyes
And later, wrapped in cooler days
In fragrant gardens misty-wet
We’ll breathe their scent and remember
the place our pathways met.
Janette Parr
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins