Croc Dreaming
By Julie Maclean
All night freight trains roar in,
whirl about my galleon, sails billowing,
spiky shadows of palm fronds casting
all about like Bunyip’s claws
I lie in my canvas listening
to treetop winds
So much energy
searching for a destination
Like the blonde at Cooktown with the scarred
arms and dog with frightened eyes
in the beaten-up Hi Lux with the broken axle,
limping south
She’s crossed the Jardine
jumping reptiles,
destination unknown
Brown mole shaped
like a reef islet
on the right side
of her dry mouth