I visited you today
In that dark and ancient place


The creek is running swiftly now
Full of Winter’s rain
I wonder what remains

of You there, as I

Stand upon the bridge, where once so long ago
You were swallowed by the flow


You would have laughed today
To see me dressed so
Two dresses, black of course
Jacket of pistachio green

stockinged feet, encased

By gumboots, bought in haste


You would have held me
And comforted me as I cried
For losses old and

fresh and new

And pondered hopes that died


You would have smiled though
And waved goodbye
As I dried my eyes and

changed my shoes

And bid you farewell once more

One response to “Wirrawilla

  1. What a touching poem. I can see the creek and feel how sad you are, standing in your gumboots.

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