The poetry of Keith MacNider is like a ground spring, rising from deep within and lifting the reader to the airy grace of rivers, trees, stones, clouds, and to our human connection to the past and to the land.
Written over several years, these poems were shared with good friends of similar interests. They reflect encounters with places from Yorkshire to Canberra to the South Coast of NSW and with familiar people and books.
‘Charles Freyberg entices us into a midnight world where passion brings both rapture and peril. Like Kenneth Slessor, Dorothy Hewitt and Michael Dransfield, he portrays the creative denizens of Kings Cross after dark with lyrical poems mourning the devastation wrought by addiction, plague and madness.’ - Lou Steer