Telegraph Point

Blazed dark on the white wood
the name revives me from the city's stupor
For the weeds have known us both
and the grey road has grown a beard

Where my father and I woke to the gum tree dawn
and the smell of the wet road
We strolled beside the highway to the rattling bridge
that lived in the mist

You tucked your secrets in my bag of dreams as I slept
I still dream of the campfire's scent
where the bending road meets the river