This is poetry that dances like the brolga: in praise of wading waist deep in the mountain river's 'nourishing brown flow'; of parcelling freshly caught barra in paperbark before 'sweetening in coals'; of a campfire crackling in 'plumes of rising heat'. Hall raises the flag to Indigenous survival, listening to Country in a way that esteems the traditional owners and interrogates colonialism's crooked paths. This is poetry that keeps us sensitively engaged and committed from beginning to end. [from Trove record]
Dedication: For Jillian
the love with whom I fly
