Wednesday, September 28, 2016

James Walton #26 A Dairy Hand On a Hill

A Dairy Hand On a Hill

I milked a season
in the high range near Timboon
for a Bavarian named Rudi,

who built a Black Forest house
out of place against eucalypts
like those old special effects ,

a wobbly head stuck on the wrong body
land so fat the kelpies
pretended to bring the cows in,

spent their time fossicking
in earth as black as truffle
then red in deep Shiraz

His daughter would say
Look the Sky pours into the Sea
and that she didn’t love me,

was going back to Germany
so tanned she’d vanish in a paddock
I had to look close to catch,

an auburn dancing shimmer
she drifted in light then flew by
left me a demijohn stranded,

a becalmed catamaran
but sometimes she wrapped me in Sienna
just for a while You’re my Man.


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