The view is blocked up ahead
Birch treetops line-up, side by side, tense like tin soldiers
Heads heavy with snow
Hiding shadows fall behind them.
She powers through
Searching for the horizon beyond her eyeline,
Closer, crystalised branches capture time
Frigid rigid fingertips reach out
Like ghost gums caught by surprise.
But nothing compares to the sting of eucalypt
When the stench leaks out
Held forever. Sensed.
Boughs bowing as she flies through
Time not stopping to pause or ponder
Missing the moments the storm blew over.
Signs whizz by hazy as the force of traffic pushes her forward.
---Just follow the flow---
Iced verges and jagged line mud white, glide
Slip along under the velocity of the moving vehicle which carries her force
Ice particles blow across the highway in a rush
Attacking concentration
In zigzag formation tripping her up from thoughts.
Like the dry dirt dusting. Slicing away at her blistering speeds
Rounding at her heels they drag her into past tracks.
Lunging into reverse. Road turns grey asphalt
Verges burn off and the red ochre takes over her
Journey returns to the red centre.
Unable to refer to the past without heat
Without the beat of the path to Tennant Creek
Temperature rises inside her but her itchy feet
remain cold.
The crown of privilege who chose her own place
Slips from her sweaty hands.
The kilometres slip by without notice
and just as quickly as she forms the thought of belonging,
It’s gone, without warning.
Parallel to the sisters’ dreaming
Alongside the old aunties heeding, she powers on.
Screaming around a wrong turn
Voice echoing over frozen lakes
Flight from fight leads her to lose sight of the might in which she held her own head high
Running from the choices left behind.
Image 1: www.independentpeople.net