A silver ribbon of a road <br />threaded through vertical hills <br />a shallow creek sparkling cold <br /> <br />Rainbow trout caught <br />with stick and sharpened nail <br />and fried in flour <br /> <br />Blackberries everywhere <br />scratches and thorns <br />and purple fingers <br /> <br />Beds with lumpy pillows <br />kettle whistling on the primus stove <br />slippery paper in the outside dunny <br /> <br />Mum cutting kindling <br />with hatchet and determination <br />her face red and shining <br /> <br />Dad cursing and swearing <br />installing the new gas lights <br />which hissed affectionately <br /> <br />Saturday afternoons <br />straining to hear the Goons <br />on the radio which crackled <br /> <br />Daily visit to the General store <br />with hand petrol pump and <br />milk in bottles and licorice straps <br /> <br />The band rotunda <br />with memories of polished brass <br />before the gold dried up <br /> <br />Torchlight journey through the long tunnel <br />a tiny circle of light <br />slowly growing bigger <br /> <br />Exploring the old cemetery <br />with gumboots full of leeches <br />and sad inscriptions to little souls <br /> <br />Walhalla - old ghost town <br />threatened by this year's fires <br />Thank God you escaped...<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/snapshots-of-walhalla-1950-1960/
