I’m tired
now
Playing tag
with the same cars,
overtaking and
falling behind again.
Leaving
silvery streaks
on the road’s wet surface.
on the road’s wet surface.
Thinking
about
John
Wolseley.
The Australian
landscape,
How little
of it I’ve seen,
How long I’ve
been here.
I wrote
down place names
of lakes I
want to go to.
Then, in front of me,
Then, in front of me,
jutting through concrete clouds,
Hanging rock,
There’s the
sign.
Miranda!
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