the road scars right, across the

palm of land, tumbling, dwindling,

a groove, a history, a way in,

worn and healed slick
the road, oil on linen, bitumen

on peat, with all its gradations

of shadow, bruise to smear to brush
the road, cloud above scuffed and

tugged by wind, rain sifting down,

the ‘haar’ they call it here,

cold breath of wet
the road, its dip and sway, blur

of scrub, the urge, glimpse of roof,

swerve, the early dark, the entrance


Notes:

In response to ‘The Entrance’ by William Rhode. Exhibited in the Sawtooth

ARI Gallery, Launceston, Tasmania, in June, 2014 Exhibition.