Creek Gully Dreaming

1 May 2018

Fan-tailed, a brown cuckoo dove swoops
across the highway, settling on verge. 
You could it take it as a sign there’s undercurrent
to asphalt, that it’s the world flowing
beneath us. A vinyl-clad demountable demurs 
roadside. Blurred country flips through vignettes
seen or remembered: grass-trees that compete 
with lantana clots rising like a bad dream
from the creek gully; gold mine shafts, caged over 
on rain-shadowed hillside; the open cut mine –
its rail line that bridges the road ahead
& now the road behind.

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