The Sudden Quiet

<p style='margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 42.5px; text-align: justify; font-stretch: normal; font-size: 10px; line-height: normal; font-family: Adobe Garamond Pro;'>Praise for <em>New Skin</em>: 'When I first came across Fraser Mackay's wry ruminations I liked how they were rooted in place and gave off an air of hardy solitary manhood: somewhere in Central Victoria among granite and magpies there's a joint in a wide paddock; the horse has been fed by hand and a cold rain is heading in from the West; maybe tonight a loving friend will show with a good red; then again maybe she won't. Easefully a poem starts up one that knows just when to open its mouth and when to go quiet. You get a sense that the poet is on the path of learning about what Robert Adamson has called the clean dark.' - Barry Hill </p><p><br></p>