We had an unexpected trip to Townsville this past weekend and also a day trip to Magnetic Island, scene of several holidays in the past. This was our first trip since the ferry terminal was moved from Picnic Bay to Nelly Bay and we were keen to see the impact on the Picnic Bay village.
This is the pier …
… and this is the hill …
and these are the trees …
that linger still … Beautiful as ever
but it was a different place. I’ve written a poem for an online Month of Poetry Challenge and include it here.
Maggie island
Picnic bay now the ferry no longer calls
There were curlews here once
hoards of them
all long legs and stretch neck
old-wood feathers
and whistle-sad cry
They whiled our evenings
dinnering on the promenade
The resort fence remains
and the waterfront walk
The pier reaches to the mainland
as if in supplication
The banyans umbrellas broader
and the wreck sinks further
into the seabed
The red yellow flags
show where it’s safe to swim
and a few do
The Chinese restaurant
now sells burgers
and coffee
and bait
The trees flutter
as they frame luminous sea
and a lone butterfly
lands on a empty bar stool
There are no curlews now
not one leftÂ
to cry down the long quiet afternoon
to cry down the long quiet afternoon
