Events of the day still keeping me from sleep
What secret do the silent forest keep?
And still the voice is ringing in my ear
And ghost of Sherbrooke Forest I still hear.
As I reached halfway down the forest path
I heard a voice distinct from feral cat
A distress sound not unlike human moan
In depth of forest and from source unknown.
I formed mental picture of Aborigine
In undergrowth stretched by a gray gum tree
Dying in the forest gunned down mercilessly
The life blood from a chest wound trickling free.
And a white fellow with hand gun in his hand
Near by the body of the dying man stand
And then he walk off and leave his victim there to die
In forest undergrowth neath darkening sky.
And then I awoke to find it all a dream
And in the world of subconscious I'd been
I boiled the kettle and made a cup of tea
And pondered on what my inner self did see.
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