Behind Briagolong, up along
the Freestone
the road roils feverish - a freshly decapitated snake.
Every few car lengths, it winds back
on self
in whiplashing agitation.

Dusty track
is socketed deep into steep-sided
igneous cliff,
slavishly following curvaceous creek,
voluptuously swollen
by distant-seeming, darkly
glinting water.

Some fisherman's
set up camp
a hundred metres down
on rock atoll.
Shore must be bloody uncomfortable.
Although rocks are all worn, unleavened
by kneading time,
some are the back-cracking size
of pita.

Hope the weather stays
fine,
for your sake, mate.
I've seen deadly water Fierce Snake
rear
following faraway rain - un-forecast,
unfelt,
an epic wrecking that Red Sea-ed in - r u s h e d
to bring death.