A poem by Jonathan Hill, Old Erowal Bay, New South Wales
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Driving home along the old wool road Not long now to our humble abode The groceries from Bilo on the back seat Beside the restless hungry dogs who are wet from the beach A synchronised sigh as we peer up ahead Clouds apricot gold sharply outlined in red Bold columns of light explode through the clouds that float amidst a lilac and smooth silver shroud I reach for your hand our palms gently kiss I truly do treasure moments like this. 
Jonathan Hill is a non-Aboriginal author.