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Landslide
Craig Stanton (University of Technology Sydney, Australia)

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(for Grandma)
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One day I walked some miles
And passed by the towering landslide:
I saw the mountain’s scar,
The sun-tinged yellow wound now
Mellowed by a garden and worn
Away by rain; I heard the songs of birds playing
Amongst the ancient rubble and, looking
Upwards, I could see the valley walls
Haloed by the obscured winter sun.

Afterwards you told me of the
Night the mountain fell and the
Noise that echoed thunderously and
Echoed still. Then you stared out
Of the window and the winter sun
Teased spirals from our teacups
And glanced off your cheek as if off
Weathered stone: it haloed in your hair.
And, looking through the window, there
Were children singing in your winter garden.

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Craig Stanton was born in Katoomba, NSW, many years ago and now lives in Newtown, Sydney, with his wife, a cat and three bearded dragons. He is studying writing at the University of Technology in Sydney (UTS). He likes his coffee strong, black and very sweet, acknowledging that, if she were alive today, Dorothy L. Sayers would probably despise him for it.

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