Two Sharp, Sydney,
Darkening, Conflicting, Yearning, Struggling and twisting.
Neither did I have strong ‘Aussie’ coffee;
Nor walk to the hill growing a gumtree.
I suspect myself being sick.
Lost my soul,
Spelt “scapegoat” wrong into “space-goat”
I cried for home.
He came from the unlocked backyard door,
And straight to my kitchen,
When I was standing still in the rented roof,
Suddenly prepared to salute:
For he is the general of this foreign land,
I am the stranger who is prepared to intrude.