Against a blue that’s hard to find
In Northern Europe my own patch,
Which has no landscape that can match.
Pale green shrub and dappled trees
Stillness broken by a breeze,
Bird life abundant, hard to see
Against a terracotta scree.
Where am I? Far from tarmacked road,
On dusty track, in Antipode
Just minutes from Olympic Dam
Named for Melbourne’s sporting span
In Fifty-Six - now busy site
Where uranium’s processed day and night.
With gold and copper ore, this mine
Is making dollars now, big time.
In this thriving outback town,
Where all amenities surround
The growing populace, desert heat
Means air conditioners seen in street.
There’s a library, hospital and vet
Dry cleaners and a superette*
Where prices for fresh veg are high
The trucks must travel, that is why.
What’s a bettong? In the dark,
We discovered in an arid park
In a hide, first checked for fear of snakes,
That wildlife night-time forays makes.
A bilby, mini kangaroo,
Was caught in spotlight by our crew
As we wandered over sandy dune
Under a starlit sky and moon.
Once a month the Raceway roars
As old jalopies settle scores
A chequered flag proclaims the winner
Steak sandwiches our only dinner.
On Sundays, Roxby Downs still thrives
The nursery plants enrich our lives
Then hurtling over rough terrain,
We can noodle in the dumps again!
The Opal is an outback gem
Each one unique; my feeble pen
Cannot express its fiery glow
Found in red rocks so deep below.
A treasure of another sort
A trip up North, a sudden thought,
A dream of Oz this one weekend
Whose memories will never end.
Written in 2006
* very small supermarket
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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