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Farm Houses

Leon Trainor

May 01 2013

1 mins

      Farm Houses

Perched on a ridge, crouched in the last

scrub of a hill, set at the end

of a winding drive: they all stand

at an angle to the tarmac,

facing the same way like cows,

bums to the weather. No house

that’s any good will face the road:

yards cluttered with old tractors,

dead utes, they always watch their own –

stock or crops; cattle, sheep or wheat;

driveways placed so they can spot

strangers who approach. Why do they

never see us hurrying past?

A good farm house never surveys

anyone else’s property.

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