December 20th, 2020Local Lines

Afternoon, a Doctors Gully stroll,
Hepburn Springs. Behind an abandoned guest house
a stony path curls
before broadening into a surprise
slashed grass track.
Pass under tall manna gums, the odd sycamore.
Among them appears a redgum,
a lumpy-trunked, unfinished-looking river redgum.
What’s that sound?
Not psithurism.
Bees massing.

A sidetrack dips
to an unslashed, earthen creek crossing.
Keep eyes peeled for Joe Blakes.
Sheds, woodstacks, porch entrances,
the backs of properties only ever seen from the front.
Sniff out Main Road.
The crunch of slipping stones as you climb
in full sun, past netted fruit trees until
bitumen.

• Bill Wootton

Bill likes walking round Hepburn and Daylesford, especially on slashed paths. Thanks DELWP.

Local Lines are mostly written by a group of local poets but if you would like a poem considered for publication, contact Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com