Saxby Pridmore: Two Poems
Alice Springs
Flat red land with sparse dry grass
the occasional green stubby bush
and the MacDonnell Ranges like a Berlin wall.
It is hot and there are no clouds just sun.
It is dry and the river is a river-bed
wide, shallow, sand and rocks. Quiet.
Some birds fly, not many. Sea gulls strut in public parks
but there is no sea for a thousand miles.
You can’t stay now, but this is where you want your ashes strewn.
Saxby Pridmore
A Boy from School
I remember the face
Of a boy from school
Who was lost in the bush and never found.
I always see him crying for his mother.
But he’s ahead now
His dying is behind him.
Saxby Pridmore
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