Land Rites
Through the pursuit of beauty we shape the world as
a home, and in doing so we both amplify our joys
and find consolation for our sorrows. – Roger Scruton
Australia Day at dawn: in hat
and khaki shorts I front the sun
as oaten stubble’s trodden flat
beneath my boots. A neighbour’s run
with grazing sheep beneath my hat
brim starts beyond our wire. I stand
in prayer of sorts with chattering birds (at
once earnest, naïve) for wide brown land.
If home is where I hang my hat,
I’m home, and here I do not dread
the wrath of those insisting that
a home is where I hang my head.
Trevor Bailey