The frontier spirit hardy enough to make it through the toughest landscapes, he thinks, sticking another swastika to the spitfire's side. Circling in and there's his orange- -headed friend strapping himself to the top of the City's tower to get a better view and sing the frontier spirit. Look: on the plains the houses are wheel-less wagon trains & in Broken Hill a couple happily married for thirty-odd years quietly crosses the road while in Wollongong a small black dog races across the road then scratches its ear. All over Australia roads are traversed. Fantastic . . . the Bodalla apothecary checks his watch & locks the shop, a woman emerges glowing from Bondi's surf as a young man splashes open a beercan a tennis ball is served. An electrician's van pulls out of a sunlit driveway but jolts to a stop its back door kicked open from the inside, a huge white horse gallops out into the park someone is trying not to dream     at 7 o'clock dinner is on the table getting cold framed by twilight but we're in the pub listening to all this just when a yacht's spinnaker billows a tulip girl skates on an irrigation canal Woof! up go the balloons & the spitfire flies out of the sun.

S. K. Kelen