My hometown




The grit between the years


Yesterday, as I tramped the streets

Of the town where I was born

I came unexpectedly upon some

Misty, half-forgotten places

Moments from my life

Still hung upon them

Like dusty Christmas ornaments


That goofy tower

Like a bucket on a broom handle

Where I discovered my fascination

For falling

A too grandiose old theatre

Where my grandmother

Took just me to see Chariots of the Gods

The dock by Circular Quay

Where we took ship for England

And there across the harbour

The mocking Indian head at Luna Park

That inspired such unreasoning fear each time

I was led through his gaping mouth


These streets I haven’t seen in years

Their names like invocations

George, Pitt, Elizabeth

all so familiar despite the changes

Time, like an overlay

Blending two worlds

Two lives

Or many


I may never see these streets again

But I will carry them forever inside me

Dusty but still resonant

A reminder that islands are just


Connected in the deepest places.





Indian head.jpg




Words and images are my own.














4 thoughts on “My hometown

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