By | 1 August 2012

Driving through Kangaroo Valley
I glimpsed a low slung animal
in my headlights; pulled over
and recognized a wombat — fog
lifted its gauze, a clump of ferns
moved apart. Another animal
trundled out, then a third
came into view, larger this time
with darker colouring.
All three moved into a rough circle.
I turned the headlights off,
squinted through the glow
of parking lights — too dim to see —
I grabbed a torch and rolled
the window down; frogs pumped
in the undergrowth, nightjars
passed along their liquid calls —
in the middle of the road the wombats
were doing a double shuffle.

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