In this place lie footsteps,
footsteps and carvings
left by those not forgotten,
yet long forgotten.
The tracks left by the great rainbow snake wind and twist and slither,
Filled with the sky’s reflection now,
this river, that once was diamond,
Silted, muddy, murky.
Life thrives on these dusty banks,
pale gumtree bark and crackling leaves,
huge yellowbelly and carp
and this hot dry breeze.
Wonky trunks and massive gnarled roots stretch
as if dancing in the fathomless slow motion of growth,
and the brittle and snap and crunch and pale earth here dances a life of its own.
It dances firelit nights and drums and stars,
it homes flightless wonders hatching from turquoise shells,
it breathe stories of a colonized past
and shivers ripples along snakeskin water.
Pale warm afternoon birds rustle and whoosh and call from high up in ancient trees,
it is easy to feel small here,
in all the right ways.
There is a hum of something old and vast,
and though lost in not so distant past,