Sunday, May 5, 2013

Going for Brunch in Bulleen With Old Friends

Driving east on the Ballarat Road
Sal Kimber rollin' me along, our
crossroads intersecting, where life's
lines are drawn.

It's trains, and journeys
along a river, dancing to
our forebears' tunes, crossing
country only to make a song.

I'm a highway traveller
freeway lover
the rhythm of wheels
notes and scores
of the past unsung.

Driving west on the Ballarat Road
knowing Deer Park was truly so
and a new Officeworks will save
us hours.

It's driving that opens up
new opportunities, makes the eye
see what was not there before,
and stories get told with drums.

I'm a highway traveller
freeway lover
the rhythm of wheels
notes and scores
my lifelong song.

East is my past, the people of love,
of everlasting hope for futures lost.
West, I face the setting sun, the future
repetitious, red.

It's always a road divided
broken by lines, official and
unintended. The music moves
and so do I, marking the beat.

I'm a highway traveller
freeway lover
the rhythm of wheels
notes and scores
always a tune in my head.

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