I wrote a verse, decades ago, a haiku as I remember,
About what I saw around me when I first came to Canberra:
This wide and constrained land.
There, spread around the Limestone Plains,
The site marked out for the future, I saw a rim of high-lands
And wrote to share what I saw.
I wrote of a bowl with a shining rim, an image for all to see,
Destined to hold the heart of the Nation.
And that was so, back then.
For you could spin upon your toes with arms outspread
Like a ballerina, and all around you, you could see
The uplands that would frame us.
There were hills named this and mountains called that and off
To the distance were the Ranges that held the summer sun
Or the snow falls of winter.
But now the shining rim is cracked and split with high risen glass
And concrete too, with fingers of steel much higher than
The disappearing Highlands.