murchison afternoon
for my father gold-mining
december 2011, revised 2021
murchison – westport

its heyday already
over, the place
shaken to a ghost
of itself, when the
hills caved in*,
wouldn’t have
gone ahead by much
in your days here,
a man of the mountains
come down to the town
for flour, a beer,
a look through the
general store
never bargaining
on prices, at most
just shaking your
head with hat
in hand.
in the pub
getting a coffee
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