Traveller

Poem about being away from your own country

Standing before buildings, famous
the world over
Or before a grand vista
of green rolling pastures of English
countryside; my mind, half a world away
sees low, squat hills, covered with eucalypts
and rolling paddocks with crisp, dried grass
dancing, golden, to the wind's unique music.
And, standing on a London street corner
watching lights play out their own show
on Piccadilly Circus,
I think of the smells and sounds of home
the rank scent of gum and gentle accent
of my own country.