POEM-On A Train Through Murray Country At Sunset
On A Train Through Murray Country at Sunset Fanging it into humidity a few days before Christmas on the Jersey and Brahman line. At the leg stretch at Taree a French couple are sweet parting until the wheels start. Him staying on for another plashy season, her catching our sleeper, wrapped together until the wheels start. The sun is down behind the hills round as unexcavated pyramids, and golden hour lines the streaming mullet of a farmer standing on his quad-bike bouncing down the valley against our direction of travel after his cattle through his marsh. and the photos from a non-existent coffee-table picture book called The Disused Sheds of the North Coast hypothesise in my head. Nothing to do but watch the grass-tree spears from the buffet car, wide-legged leaning, head against the window, and reimagine the forest as it was before he came. Myall, myall, what travels in a name?