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In those first few days after Heath left us I often had this image of him and Ned sitting and talking. I wrote the base of this at that time and finished it tonight, the visit to Kelly country giving me the last pieces.

In this other place
The one that is beyond life
We sit and speak
I Ned, and him
The man who became me

Time between life and death
Is immaterial here
I was young
And so was he
Now we talk

Of the things that I knew
The things that he felt
And the understanding
Of how it is to be hunted
To be misunderstood, pursued

But here is somewhere else
This place that is between
One life has ended and we wait
For the other to begin
For hope and promise and fulfilment

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