FROM THE MACKSVILLE TO SYDNEY TRAIN

 

The poem of the landscape flicks by.

Long black logs like the abandoned cigarettes

Of giants. Lonely houses, so I’m not sure

What I saw. A face and hand at the window?

Bleached tin and wood. A black dog stands guard

Over nothing. Desultory Cattle. Windmills

Turn forever like blank roulette wheels:

Everyone’s a loser. Gums cluster together

Their burnt history evident as a shared scar.

The occasional flash or black of water.

Off to our right and now left

The alienated highway : its anonymous traffic.

A huge greyness begins to drum on the roof of the train.

A black dog stands guard over nothing.

 

Lyndon Walker