His brother carved a farm
at the base of the lamington
range. That’s where Bernie is
among the black spotted pigs
that remind him of tiger cats
who haunt the mountain.
Herb points his finger
up the valley at last Friday
afternoon’s twin engine plane
entering cloud, trying to climb
‘That was a week already’.
Bernie didn’t see it fly over that day,
he hadn’t seen the newspapers either;
a santa’s sleigh of a plane,
over Coffs Harbour, Nambucca Heads,
Wauchope, Terrigal. Spare aircraft
search the coast and hinterland
the army head up
the Hawkesbury, then, oil
spotted off Broken Bay. All Hopes
Abandoned. Growing Belief
Plunged into the Sea.
Have you ever had a hunch? It is logic
I listen to, mostly. Bernie never called it
a hunch. He just didn’t
think newspapers have a clue.