1. MURRAY RIVER AND LAGOON AT ECHUCA, VICTORIA
echuca, murray river, sugar gums, the mist gently eats them,
we are desnagging the rivers into barren courses, washaways,
cods inhabit the rivers under branches, then trees lost to rivers, crashing into water,
crackling, wide green water, grey box, river red gums, big with years,
silver wattle, it won't be long before they are in bloom,
wattle parades with plenty more behind as the ones in front fall down,
golden wattle leaning too far into the river, roots exposed, withering,
sick and tired red gums giving way to the splash, their eventual full submergence,
murray cods wait deep in the water, fanning the current with their tails,
they send the river, on its lumbersome journeys of water and branch,
casuarina, steam paddlers, a smell of thick white smoke, this murray in deep winter,
we are standing by a large grey lagoon off the bone cold side,
the different water heights, the certainty of marooned water,
this quiet lagoon has its own separate spirituality from the river, darker stiller,
without a ripple for birds to glide on, bent red gums, whistling water, branches,
land separates the two sections, it is a grey water mirror,
the land too slow in drinking it down has put a hold on this place,
so that the winter sky can take charge of this still sectioned water by raising it,
but the dark sky clouds over and more rain comes charging down,
to be sodden there, it's sad about lagoons, my mother was always sad about them,
they were too beautiful for her, normally her face is held together,
as she ploughs through her life like a steam paddler, losing paint and all subtlety,
but caught in the silvery daylight of a sad lagoon, it cracked like a split branch,
as she fell into her hands, in that moment the sky rains, we are saturated getting into the car,
in her absence i am left with friends, viewing the bend ratio and gradient of the land,
around the wide bends of the murray, mooned pools filled up with gum leaves, black and oily |
