The Drover’s Drive                                                        
                                                                              
In the final analysis a relative said. Such a lonely
spot, O Brad. There goes an odd bod a neighbour 
noted – compared to whom the visitor floated. 
Still at the party, one guest asked the other:
What do you do? About what, Drover responded
looking at their shining shoes. Excuse me! Warning 
Drive to move out of the way. Time flies. If time
is always there, Drove & Drive come and go, then 
surely, they move through time. It’s all in the mind. 
A concept Drive is loath to discuss with the dentist.
The bottom line, the banker said. Not on my page,
the tenant came back. Black armband view of 
history. An image used by a white son despite 
the grief of the gun. With all due respect. Often
precedes callous calls. Cost effective Fence claimed, 
twisting for nuclear power. While another guest
deigned to say Political Correctness, to win us
over. Even breathing is political the drover railed.
A level playing field (and Yours sincerely) the 
drover later read with dismay. At the end of the 
day – good evening, the drover smiled away.
Sketching Similarities                                                
Georgia loves to paint, so does
           Georgina — Georgia farewells
monochromes, so does 
          Georgina. Cherishing primary
colours they welcome 
          nuances, their brushes braving 
spells on canvas, on line, 
          having interpreted aspects of         
the Swan river, when later
         they felt impelled to include
images of North and South
          Perth including dawns donning 
birth. Georgia and Georgina 
          love to sketch from their respective 
places alongside the river 
          Swan on dense and dendrite days.     
          
         
The Temptation to Submit                                      
(With thanks to C. L.)
What kind of poetry do you like,
       an interviewer asked an interviewee
                on Radio National. I like good poetry
                        the interviewee told the microphone
where a likely listener had
        grown to note the grip of good, 
                its gradient (compared to whom) 
                        eventually understood. Whose 
essence, effervescence, con
        amore, con moto accompanies 
                a writer’s ostinato? Is the temptation 
                        to submit that excellence resides in the 
eyes of the dominant tribe 
        valid, a folly or a temerity leading 
                to an affinity for the sound of the 
                        fugue? Noting the tension between 
players and listeners in 
        ovation and oration may
                be nudging notes neglected in 
                        movements for a tomorrow with tremolo.