Oldmate near Meeniyan,
helping with the awning:
oldmate Mark,
with the rooftop tent
and plans to complete the lap.
That was me
some years ago.
Mark, with the dry bag in the racks,
across the months before we met,
have you felt
like I felt back then?
Did you witness God at Nandroya Falls?
Did you marvel at Cable Beach?
Were you lonely at Derby?
Have you longed for that girl? Ah, that girl.
Perhaps you thought you’d bring her along
some day.
Mark,
lifting the bar at the front as I fix the sides,
thanks Mark.
Mark, with time to spare to help a bloke,
did you think,
as you scanned a border town,
on love and
on absurdity?
Did you read One Hundred Years of Solitude
whilst others went to work?
Mark,
I’ll see you again in several years
in another version of here:
me still you and you still me
to the tune of the oldmate’s anthem,
where it all means nothing, Mark.
And yet it does mean something, too,
doesn’t it?
