Sitting on the roof of the Toyota
I watch the local boys play footy
in the red dust in their bare feet
while around us I can see the few local
hills
baring themselves to a retreating sun
as if they cannot get enough baking
in this pinging air.
Those hills are worn down to their gums
and bones in their endless solitude out
there.
The local boys are sliding in the dust
and dodging each other like airy ghosts.
They’re dragging shadows as long as
serpents.
Sitting on the spare tyre on the roof rack
I take photos of them racing past me,
they are flying, those boys.
The hills are ignoring them
for the hills have a bigger story to listen
to
or at least that is what their silence seems
to say.
This is such a beautiful song of Australia, somehow a longing, maybe an elonging : how sun makes longing longer those shadows and so hyper acute to close the eyes. I love this: Those hills are worn down to their gums
ReplyDeleteand bones in their endless solitude out there.