In May of this year I visited Tasmania for a holiday and I happened to drive from Strahan on the island’s western coast to Hobart on the east.  Not far out of Strahan, I passed through old Queenstown, a place that is both historical and onerous in one: over 100 years ago it was used for copper mining, and a result of this commercial activity was that it released elements into the atmosphere – such as acid – that eventually killed all the luscious forest in the area.  In time, the place looked like a moonscape, and has become synonymous with harsh survival.  I visited its railway station, which had an interesting sign about overcoming the odds in life, which is what concerns the following verse that I wrote; it is 172 word rondeaux redoublé.  I hope this poem gets you thinking too 🙂