Lorne Johnson’s close visceral connection to the flora and fauna of the Morton National Park, south of Sydney near his home in Bundanoon, gives breath to every page of this elegant chapbook. His poetry touches the ground lightly, in fleeting avian fashion, while his keen, bird-like senses miss little, whether with the photographers eye or the poet’s ear.
we clambered through
vaulted emerald domes
and spirals of light and insects.
Everything around us
buzzed and ticked.
The air tasted of minted salt.
If you live in the bush, you need this poetry to parse and proclaim your connection to the sights and sounds around you. And if you live in the heart of the city, you really need these poems, and you need them now.