A vortex of dry twigs spirals. br The three Koori women br turn their backs, br squeeze their eyes tight br and let the willy willy br lash the air around them. br br It dances like a dervish br up the dusty track, br dissolving in a puff br as if it had never been. br The Koori women laugh, br loud and darkly: br 'Well, there's your message.' br br The Territory is the vortex br of a new storm - br a willy willy of well-intentioned words br from well intentioned officials br seeking quick fix solutions br to decades br of poverty and neglect. br br Sadly the Koori women know br that the dust will soon settle br on this willy willy of new promises br dissolving it in a puff br as if it had never been. br br They've seen it all before.