Now the grass is hot; the sun is short and yellow
And we are home from school
To find the five-acre paddock
Flooded with Seabrook water.
My dad and grandpa, as done for many years,
Had fun running water through the wooden pipes,
Damming here and there, watching the dogs
After the rabbits.
Cool in the clear water, once again we fling
Ourselves onto the backs of our horses,
Galloping around the flooded paddocks
And bring in the happy cows slowly.
They splash, then plod their way to the cow shed,
Us, behind, wishing we were in the outback
Racing after frisky beef cattle with our stock whips
Lightly touching tough hides.
Red dust and kookaburras laugh.
A true way of life on the land in Aust.
© Patricia Turner
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