driving to the lemon tree flats
i am a passenger
for the first time
in months (maybe longer)

laughing more than
my body can remember
i sit in back
while we stop for lizards

lizards with beards
and long tails
(tails longer than our stories)
sit inside shared binoculars.

gravel dust
already dry road
covers the signs back to town
my head turned

until suddenly
ancient granite
fills the window
and i can’t find my sunglasses!

arcing gums shade our walk
to a waterhole
and dripping wet
friends lay in the sun

laughing at the day ahead.
someone calls
to see grinding stones
as hot as the sun

where the men before us
where the women before us
where the people before us

and water
muddened by recent rain
sits silent
and continues

© 2015 Melinda Irvine

eucalypts of the Lemon Tree Flats