The Daisies

The hill of feral daisies is in flower again,
I know they are a weed,
But beautiful in their bounty nonetheless.
They measure the Springtimes,
Since I met you.
Despite the fact that we have parted.
You, like the daises are part of me.
And when I see them,
It is that Summer,
All over again.
When I fresh-faced picked posies,
To fill my small rented cottage.

I remember,
How each year they slowly crept,
Out from their stronghold,
The travelling stock reserve,
And down the road like each seasons,
Grazing  cattle.
The cows and the cars,
Have spread them almost to town.

The other afternoon,
As I was driving home,
I saw a patch on my own road.
The daisies are moving closer to me.
So I shall have an annual reminder
Near at hand.

Fledglings

Feather and claw grotesque,

Posture distorted,
Eye dulled,
The road is littered:
Australian Raven, Magpie and Chough.
All struck before they knew,
The ecstasy of flight.

UHF

The road to my work-place is special.
Especially corrugated, narrow and winding.
Through cool mountain forests,
Home to the fleet-footed,
And sometimes,
Not fleet-footed enough.
Wallaby, wombat, lyrebird and kangaroo.
Flashes of fur and feather.
And of twenty five tonnes of log truck.
With accompanying dust.

So the ritual calls commence.
"Gap Road,  Bendoc to Jughandle,
Mustards to Delegate River,
Playgrounds to Burtons rd.
Legge Rd, heading down the Brown."

And the replies.
"Yeh you should be seeing my dust soon."
Or...
"Watch out! I'll be coming up in a minute."

And then the trucks to each other.
"Yeh Mack, a little one coming up next."

I sneak up on them and eaves drop on their conversations.
" Yeh she was a wild night at the club..."
" Now what's this Dick- head doin?
F'kn tourists."

As we' pass the time of day on channel forty,
I feel a sense of solidarity,
Of one who is a local,
In the know.
In their club.

Journeying between my Homes

I journey North East toward the Plateau,
Past regenerating Blue Gums,
Their blackened flesh revitalised and sprouting.
Past the still blackened Silver Top Ash,
Just sprouting.
The forest floor is a fresh green carpet.
The odd sentinel stands out as a monument.

Arriving at the cooler country,
Signs of the devastation dwindle and peter out at last.
I am amongst the forest giants.
Shining Gums shade the fern trees,
Black woods just in blossom,
Remnants of snow lay like whisker-tinged shaving foam,
In the shaded gutters of the track.

We reach the gap between the ranges.
I look down the steep precipice to the falls.
I hear the gurgling sounds of fast moving water over stone.
The Sassafras Christmas Trees  now take the place of the gums.
I am in the Cool Temperate Rainforest.

Opening out onto the other side.
We see the first signs of habitation.
A cleared paddock, a plantation.
We are high, eleven hundred metres.
The trees are stunted, Snow Gums and Candlebarks.
Cross the fast flowing river, lined with tea tree.

Wind down again into tall forest,
This time Grey Gum and Messmate,
Cottonwoods reaching up between them like children.

At last we descend into the village,
Neat and timeless save the satellite dishes on tin roofs.
Climbing out of the valley that holds the town like an infant,
We escape out into stark sunshine,
The open high plains of the Monaro.
Arrived.
 

The long and Winding Road

I count eight hundred and fifty seven,
The number of bends in the road,
The long and winding road,
To your door.
I pass two National Parks
Errinundra and Snowy River,
And two scenic reserves,
Martins Ck and The Gap,
On the long and winding road,
To your door.
Two hamlets,
Goongerah and Bendoc,
And two locations,
Martin and Sardine creeks.
Rise a thousand metres in elevation,
Snow flakes gently descend like feathers.
Pass three animal carcasses,
Possum, wallaby and wombat,
Narrowly avoid creating another- kangaroo,
Two rock falls,
A giant boulder straddles the median strip,
Of the long and winding road,
To your door.
I listen to, then lose three radio station signals,
All 'Aunty',
Radio National and ABC Gippsland,
Drink one five hundred ml bottle of water,
"Yuck!" Town water,
And eat one gluten free nut bar,
Dropping honey covered crumbs,
As I drive the long and winding road,
To your door.
Several times I angonised about something I said,
And regretted,
But mainly my thoughts flew to you,
And our snug warm bed,
As I returned home,
Along the long and winding road,
To our door.