The Backroad Collections

Verandah shops with history
up roads like dry-gully bends
proffer gouts of laundered colour
out into their gala weekends,

recycled fashion displayed
under bullnose eaves, down corridors,
cerise, magenta, nubbled teal,
lilac overalls that were a steal,

yellow bordure and buttony rib,
pouched swimsuits, cretonne ad lib
in front of blush-crimson sleeves.
Craft collectors carry off sheaves,

tie dye, mai tai, taupe lingeries –
and cattle who haven’t yet entered
any building wander, contented,
munching under their last trees

till a blowsy gold-ginger horizon
stacked up out of the day’s talk
glorifies and buries the sun.
A nude moon burns the newsprint version.