1 walk out into the winter night to find again, if only for_ some moments, a broader margin to my thoughts: And suddenly the weather Of my mind veers SOU'SOU 'west; I inhale a sharp delight Fierce air and a few glittering stars an old memory wakes Of such a night moving to love, the earth alive and singing in me, pure and clear my thought aSyour philosophers pond:; New-found companion Of my lonely walks interpreter Of my unproved ideals, how readily it seemed you might direct aS honestly and plainly as your axe hewed timbers for your hut; my 'prentice dreams. The gold _ moon ovidipped her moorings on the hill the air to the morepork's call: In a boy's mind held gold _ disk and bird had power to cherish the innocent world. In thirty years, the moon long drowned in blood, the morepork calls only the names Of the lost from the wounded hill; From Homage to Thoreau, by Peter Hooper
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Forest and Bird, Volume 22, Issue 3, 1 August 1991, Page 52
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162Page 52 Advertisement 1 Forest and Bird, Volume 22, Issue 3, 1 August 1991, Page 52
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