draught horsediffusedfaded, Aged five or six
a city child
Driving to the countryside
to holiday at a dairy farm
Somewhere near Benalla.

Looking back
reflecting and recollecting
Remembering bits and pieces
some as faded images
Blurred and indistinct
like squashed insects
On a windscreen
with flattened paddocks
Rushing by on either side
as pale diffused washes
Of warm summer evening colours
to appear and disappear
As unfocussed staring eyes
blank exposed negatives
Satiated by the summer heat.

My father didn’t stay
leaving behind
Squawking fowls
pecking industriously
Some quacking ducks too – I think
with exotic farmyard smells
Redolent of chook ordure
treasure hunts for hidden eggs
Amidst scattered heaps of straw
in nooks and crannies everywhere
And a log bridge over a creek
and shy wild turkeys hiding.

Bouncing over paddocks
in an ancient motorcar
Radiator steaming
stopping when it boiled
Waiting until it cooled
then off we bounced again
Finally arriving for our picnic.

In the yard one day
Mr Mason (the farmer)
Tried inviting me to ride
a huge draught horse
But I timorously declined.

I was fed in the kitchen
vast quantities of cauliflower
The same tasteless vegetable
at every monotonous meal
While my mother and our hosts
dined sumptuously inside.

A small horse (or pony)
was waiting patiently outside
A smiling farmhand
hoisted me aboard
Adjusting the stirrups
while I sat on the saddle like a king
Holding the reins lightly
blissfully happy
On my beloved horse (or pony)
who knew where to go
Leisurely plodding
towards a paddock
Where the cows were moving
casually through a gap
Towards the milking shed
supervised by Dolly and me.

Our last ride together
ambling along a dirt road
To meeti a distant vehicle
spewing clouds of dust
Driven by my father
to return me to the city
Leaving behind only memories
of Dolly
My beloved horse (or pony).