Easter long weekend

Easter long weekend,

I’m riding window side 

on the train 

as concrete transforms 

into sweeping plains

of sun soaked land —

I count the roos 

in the paddocks we pass, 

and forsaken farmhouses,

sunken with time,

while a farmer and his wife

stop their work to wave us by —

In the next town,

rows of decaying sunflowers 

haunt the land as

harvest ghosts

after a long 

and spent summer —

The sun,

a fat ripe peach,

sinks toward the earth,

its steely rays warming 

my face as I press

against the window pane,

and I feel my body soften

once I spy 

amongst the evergreens, 

tree tops of margarine, 

and burning red in the breeze —

which is to say, 

Autumn, 

is with us once again.