by MARILYN HUMBERT
It’s a short walk from the carpark
through cypress and ironbarks
to the huddle of granite monoliths
time worn like old people.
Above me layers of clouds
scud in opposite directions
waiting for a storm.
My steps scrape, dislodge pebbles
which scuttle like crab to the edge,
underfoot the rock echoes…
faint scratchings, wallabies
crushing dry stalks,
endless cockatoo debate.
As I pass a lightning scarred trunk
time turns back, a coo-ee of younger days
when countrymen wander at will
before fences divided.
I wonder do the shadows hear my song,
or father’s voice coaxing his crops.
We too know drought dust,
the flooding path across Patho Plains.
I turn towards the summit
into the wind.
– Mt Terrick Terrick, located in
Terrick Terrick National Park, VIC