BUSH WALK
Michele Lourie
Rough sign etched onto board –
8.2 K round trip to the falls and back.
Encouraging blue sky, scudded with cotton wool clouds,
And no sign of black.
Crows in funereal garb, mournfully warning
With “watch-your-step” tones.
The trail well marked, across the years
Many feet have trodden these stones.
A “wait-a-while” bush reaching out tentacles
To hold the passing stranger still,
Swelling, rising, falling of duelling Kookaburras
Echoing laughter off the hill.
Water from a night-before storm
Shimmying round the sculpted bends of gully.
Shy green tree snake slithering beneath brown leaves
Scuffing a message of “hurry, hurry!”
The sheeted Falls throwing off icy spray-fingers
To bite exposed limbs and face.
Native Fig rope-dreadlocks from canopy trailing
Encircling the massive base.
Welcomed back to the camp fire, serenaded
By a frog’s strident love song.
The mellow-didgeridoo sleepy sough of the wind,
Shuffling over the billabong.
A day to remember.
