farina farina

Stone ruins on the Ghan kindle
a dream of being the Kidman or Cusack
scanning the flat for a castle, some green

We fossick for nails    find a bean tin rusted
through    Gibber stone to fit a young man’s
hand a thousand years ago    Silica smooth,
tricky shimmers in the sand scape
big enough to shock a skink into the next life

In the cemetery cameleers face east
next to the oasis for new nomads
where polished Jayco caravans
boast hot and cold running water

Facing west    the shell of a Holden
nudges the corrugated lean of a water tank
Pale weeds hide and seek where wheels
once turned to Lake Eyre in the rain
for a picnic or a stolen kiss

We snap the blue through a window
with no glass, frame of a shifting
canvas     In a wide, sharp sky there’s
the melancholy hush   Light breeze blows
spinifex through the bones of this town


First published in The Australian Poetry Journal 2012

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