Cold,
rain that comes and goes, comes and goes,
tree by the window shivering itself dry,
a slippery greenness covering the back yard.
On days like this I think of Gippsland.
After school I'd put on a coat and gumboots and walk across the road to get the cow.
Down by the velvet green of the bowling club-two carpets clipped and rolled-
past the house of the kids we never played with
and along the sponge of nature strip that ran all the way to the footy oval.
I 'd go in by the gate.
The paddock with its paths like old ropes tossed from the clouds,
a hidden creek, magpiesong, the cow waiting somewhere,
and my bootprints pressing into puddles of sky..
1 comment:
it's a good piece mum
sounds like des senior was a tough but fair man. always on the go? not so comfortable chillin out, doin diddly squat? right most of the time, but not so malleable. the 20th century was a century of sooo much social technological industrial change, a hellua a century to have lived through, as his generation did. hard to keep up when thinks are evoliving into something new all the time. it doesnt' help that the older we get, often the more set in our ways we get.
how about you self publish that book about him? i'm planning on doing one myself next year, have looked into it. you can do a run or say, 100 or 150, for less than a thousand bucks. my friend harris has self published several books and has good knowledge of the industry. i met up with him this saturday gone and had a good chat about it. do it!
anth
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