Beth Spencer







Beth Spencer



Riding along the dirt road without helmets

the middle of nowhere

hot and dusty tired and you said

you’d like a drink

and I said maybe round the corner

there’ll be a cafe, and you laughed

and said yeah, and a petrol station too.

Then we rounded the bend (the middle of nowhere)

amd there it was:

a red petrol bowser and cows and

two old ladies who served tea with biscuits

and real milk for eighty cents.

We watched the big red calf drinking from the cow

tail going like mad

milk frothing down its chin

and I loved the way

they leaned in towards each other

for stability.




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