Zinc Concentrate Train, Molong
Almost
a cliché those two huge steam engines
roaring
through the level crossing 20 miles out of Molong.
A
living thing, straining up the slight rise.
Behind
them a snake line of covered wagons
disappearing
behind the rocks. The gates of the crossing
closed
though there were no cars on the road for
miles.
I stood with my family and Ida, Tom and Mill
watching
from the gate keepers house. An old friend
of
Tom's we had driven up for a visit.
Eating
roast lamb and veggies
between
the W44 concentrate train
and
the afternoon mail from Dubbo.

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