Poem | The Antipodes

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The Antipodes

We arrived in the antipodes
it was hot and no one around
only a strange bird choir
in the morning
when we couldn’t sleep

the sun stayed up in the sky
for the whole day
dry aromas spread through the air
blue leaves of contorted trees
trembled

a spider visited
it had a red strip on its back
it sat and sat
on the corrugated hot fence
it was in no hurry

in the dry grass
lizards were rustling
or perhaps
they were the souls
of lost children

the director welcomed us
with a slab of beer
we listened to the story
of how his house in the hills
had burnt on Ash Wednesday

at night there was a cool breeze
from the other side of the world
the Southern Cross cast the shadow
of a big head
on the empty backyard

then it was Sunday
there was nothing to do
big steaks were fried
on the hot sand
until a shark appeared
everyone was running away
we followed
high up the red hills

the earth was burnt
it was tired of living
the feet hurt on the stony grass
the eyes were dry

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