Poem
Wilderness
by Brendan Ryan •
Past the final service station
into the green beyond of paddocks
soon to be carved up, quartered,
then watched over by streetlights.
In the post-work haze, nostalgia reigns:
lonely crossroads, abandoned weatherboards,
paddocks stretching down to the sea.
The involved stares of other drivers –
resolute, familiar, alone.
The busyness of the day explaining itself
yet like a student in an afternoon class
I’m toey, doubtful – was I too hard?
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