The Tree Of ManA cart drove between the two big stringybarks and stopped
These were the dominant trees in that part of the bush, rising above the involved scrub with the simplicity of true grandeur
So the cart stopped, grazing the hairy side of a tree, and the horse, shaggy and stolid as the tree, sighed and took root
The man who sat in the cart got down
He rubbed his hands together, because already it was cold, a curdle of cold cloud in a pale sky, and copper in the west
On the air you could smell the frost
As the man rubbed his hands, the friction of cold skin intensified the coldness of the air and the solitude of that place
Birds looked from twigs, and the eyes of animals were drawn to what was happening
The man lifting a bundle from a cart
A dog lifting his leg on an anthill
