Drought
Tom told my father he had never seen it so dry.
Tom told my father he had never seen it so dry.
The drive out along Cargo Road had thrown up
thick clouds of dust and we had to close the windows.
Looking out the back window was like staring into
a broken tv screen - nothing but a flickering darkness.
On the farm we had to share the bath water
then carry it in buckets out to the garden.
Most of the lambs had been sold or shot
only the breeding stock remained
fed from the diminishing stockpile of feed.
Every second day Tom would load the trailer
with bales and take it down to the creek
paddock. The sheep would be waiting by the gate
thin and sick looking. I would stand on the trailer
as Tom drove in a circle pushing off a bale
every twenty seconds to ensure there was enough
space for all the sheep to get a feed. One day Tom
drove down to the back of the paddock to check the fences
and we discovered a dead sheep in an erosion gully.
Nothing but bleached bones and dried fleece.
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