The stonewalled waterhole, amongst bushes on
the out mark is dry now, stones have been falling
to the bottom where there is rubbish, plastic bags
and empty paint tins, makes it a sad sight.
Until a few years ago, when local farmers had
sheep it was in regular use, I saw a fledgling once
learning to fly, miss the bush it aimed for landed
in the water, giving up on life without a struggle.
The young have better education, moved to big
towns, their children are scared of rabbits and what
crawls in the grass, often obese, they can't wait to
be back to the city, after visiting grandparents.
The track leading to the waterhole is barely visible
I was the only one going there till I found a scented
silk hanky, the hankering for the old days has gone,
the mysterious lady is my new future.