Doll's Head

Sunset. Possum tracks in the soft red dirt. A lizard, a snake.
Spinifex: each blade of grass a scalpel. Cork trees, charred
by the last bush fire, japanned on a red silk sky.

Stone circle in the dirt - no spectacle, no Uluru:
a marker only in the dry red dirt - of a gathering, an event;
an enactment of ritual, a handing down, handing over.

History covers its tracks, lives with the lizard, the snake,
beneath a rock, below the surface of the dry red dirt,
only makes its presence known to those who tread barefoot.

Face down in campfire ash, a doll's head: a free gift;
spitting image of some big-shot whitefella off the TV.
A marker only in the soft grey ash - of a gathering, an event.

-Dilys Rose