Dusktime down the billabong

Dusk-time down the billabong
The soft grey tones entrance
My bush friends sing their evening song
And the river gums softly dance.
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The ancient things are very slow
Secretive, knowing where they belong
Yet they move onward with the flow
At dusk-time down the billabong.


Dusk-time down the billabong
Rambung rose and frosted glass
A white man’s dream gone wrong
Broken pieces of a recent past.


And as always, the pastel pink and greys
Dance shyly on a golden muddy billabong
Reflections of mad galahs and passing days
At dusk-time down the billabong.