days like these..

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..