Mum saw reflections of the landscape in the dams.
I saw a subterranean world
and vowed not to fall in.
Later, I watched in awe
as a goanna stole dad’s bream
from the frying pan.
I burst into the tent.
“Mummy, daddy, a giant lizard has tooken our fish”
“Yes Rod, they said in chorus,
assuming it was like the crow
who flew through the sun
and dived into the dam in time,
to save its feathers from melting.
The next day,
I scraped a dog in the sand,
by the oyster racks,
venturing beyond scribble for the first time.
Alas, I haven’t come much closer
to rivalling Rembrandt since.
The year the Olympics headed to L.A,
a fallen tree beside the creek
became a spaceship.
Neil and I, aimed our laser cannons
at the pack of wolves
dad convinced him roamed the bush,
on the Tathra side of the lake.
During my primary school years,
we spot lighted for rabbits.
I thought it was cool
how dad blew those cute vermin apart,
with a shotgun.
My cousin thought urinating on the scattered remains
was the ultimate comedy act.
Recently, I walked
through Mimosa National Park,
shining my spotlight on the eighties.
I emerged from the trees,
as the sun set over the lake.
While gazing down at the stockyard,
I relived speeding down the hillside,
in the back of Roland’s ancient ute.
That long dead Toyota,
is now an archaeological site.
I strolled past the clueless gaze
of a soon to be gutted cow
and rewound to more idyllic thoughts,
of a cute little blonde,
in a feathered Akubra hat,
more at home on horseback
than I was on my feet.
I returned to the moment.
Mighty waves battered the distant headland.
Fish aimed for the gleaming moon.
As I lay cocooned on rural turf,
I was soothed to sleep by distant surf.