On a horizon, tainted by a faint sea-mist
\nA sleeping convoy lies; a convoy of coal ships.
\nDormant in a morning’s light, these
\nSlumberous steel hulks await their turn
\nTo come and load their bellies with the black
\nOf Catherine’s fossil fuel. <\/p>\n
Somewhere north there lies the steelyards,
\nIn a dirty industrial sprawl;
\nSouth, Munmorah’s chimney stacks,
\nErect, and perilously tall,
\nSpew forth white fluffy plumes
\nOf smoke from burning Catherine’s Coal. <\/p>\n
Macquarie’s waters, to the west, unseen,
\nBut we know they’re there,
\nBeyond the hills of dry green bush
\nThat flank our Catherine’s shores.
\nThough all’s irrelevant in the hush
\nOf the loud Australian Morn. <\/p>\n
No hush, not loud, the tranquil white noise sound:
\nAs wave upon wave and waves pound the rocks
\nAnd carve at the sands. What white and
\nBeauteous sands; I miss the smooth clean feeling
\nOf them sifting through my hands. <\/p>\n
I miss the loud Australian Morning,
\nAnd the south Pacific’s crashing shores,
\nAs etched in memory they remain,
\nThe visions of those younger days
\nSpent basking alone in the humbling charm
\nOf the little town of Catherine Hill Bay. <\/p>\n
Up the track, atop the hill,
\nBeyond the black coal stacks,
\nThe main (and only!) street of Catherine Hill,
\nIts rustic (or run down?) but charmful cottages
\nLine both street sides, their tattered fences
\nPeeling paint, and verandas, welcoming. <\/p>\n
A lone, black, gangly-legged dog comes out
\nTo see who’s there. Plodded out into the road’s center
\nTook in an aimless whiff of air, crossed the road,
\nSniffed again, but didn’t seem to care.
\nAs the rest of the little mining town slowly began to stir,
\nAnd break the loud Australian hush of a glorious Pacific Morn. <\/p>\n
Not so much a bay, as an arc of clean white sand,
\nJoining to north and south, two grassed, jutting headlands.
\nAnd the deep pacific blue, underneath an autumn sun;
\nAnd the steady roll of surf and tide,
\nThe crisp salt air, and the screeching calls
\nOf the myriad gull’s along its perfect shore. <\/p>\n
The love of Catherine, many men would possess,
\nBut her innate challenge, two breeds of men accept:
\nThe locals who work her mines, with their
\nOld coal-dusted hands and inescapable grime,
\nAnd an unchanged indifference that has
\nAllowed a world to pass, as
\nThey retain a hint of another century’s charm. <\/p>\n
The other, a young breed, new in man’s long past:
\nWith sun-bleached hair, and sunglassed eyes,
\nSun-bronzed skin, and four-wheel drives;
\nThe surfer negotiates Catherine’s rugged trails
\nTo take the challenge of riding her elusive waves;
\nHer solitude, her power, her waves.<\/p>\n
That Catherine Hill Bay, my Catherine,
\nHer little lagoon and many caves,
\nHer bush and her flowers, fire trails,
\nAnd the hours and hours we spent together:
\nCatherine shall always remain, But that
\nCatherine Hill Bay is no longer. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
On a horizon, tainted by a faint sea-mist
A sleeping convoy lies; a convoy of coal ships.
Dormant in a morning’s light, these
Slumberous steel hulks await their turn
To come and load their bellies with the black
Of Catherine’s fossil fuel. <\/p>\n
Somewhere north there lies the steelyards,
In a dirty industrial sprawl;
\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,3,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-302","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-kisner-collection","category-oceans","category-poems"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=302"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":303,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302\/revisions\/303"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/smpoetry.amigotico.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}