Gosford to Urunga by train
this morning
god couldn’t be bothered
the sky
bereft of cloud
an exhausted pale blue
blanched tussocks
on a railway siding
endless straw-like grass
straining for moisture
across the corridor
a girl with long legs
talking on her mobile
are you working tonight
maybe we can have a barbecue
when I get back?
modular factories
slag heaps, piles of stones
pits of muddy water
a woman behind me stating phrases
on the phone or just
stating phrases
corrugated iron fences with
personalised graffiti
Broadmeadow
bone-dry footy fields
stranded between seasons
A young guy barges on
impressing his girlfriend
with his loud laugh
moving on
unhurried relic
thoughts of the past
a sea of grey roofs
in a satellite city
like permanently pitched tents
remnant trees crawling
to the summit
of gently-eroded hills
cut-down gums
curved branches and trunks
lying against each other:
a loved-one’s last embrace
the long-legged girl rises
walks to the buffet car
to fetch Devonshire Tea
concrete pipes
abandonment
too much space
to know what to do with
sheep rasping in paddocks
twisting paths
no longer needed
abandoned mines
creeks bubbling with gas
fissures through which water drains
to unimagined destinations
far from animal thirst
Brahminy
Kites hover
on
updraughts of hot air
paddocks
punctuated by stumps
trampolines
in
ghostly backyards
sleepers waiting to be disturbed
above and below the wheels
the only connecting thread
a line
of rotting wood and steel
Dungog slow
turn through granite siding
straw the colour of the earth
but the earth itself grey
breezes rippling through
near-white grass
the girl puts up her hair, smiles
the sun comes out
a stand of gums burnt
one fallen
red leaves against black earth
dry marshland seas
of rust and olive-green
A young Aboriginal
stalks the corridors
sharp haircut
guarded expression
his story would astonish me
so would yours
dwelling on lost love
my education, my boredom
civilization an attentive mother
whispering for me to behave
this is a good day
keeping together
around the bend
new calves scatter
from the metal monster
Gloucester
the aboriginal youth
leaps out, lights a smoke
barely a puff
before whipping back
a sad return
nostrils flared
above pure muscle
an open wound moving
across his face
there’s no escape
as the day moves on
halogen light
the sun has switched
to the girl’s side
and flashes through
the forest’s green
applauding leaves
like a strobe
on a stage
more towns
with corrugated fences
she looks across at me
her journey
so close to the beginning
don’t hurry for answers
or conclusions
for this time
we will arrive
at our destination
wonderfully descriptive writing here;
ReplyDeleteThank you Efi - amazing the things you see from a train's window. Nothing is ordinary.
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