On the early eastern growth corridor
between the city and logging in the ranges
Bayswater Park boasts a sandstone bubbler base
with a brass plaque to the crowning of a young queen. Nearby a metal goanna lies on a rock
and concrete hippopotamuses swim
in a pool of ground-down rubber tyres
while children play in a wood and rope jungle-gym.
Slender eucalypts stretch above
the corrugated iron shelter
that shades the retired steam engine
now a sturdy climbing frame
chipped and painted black and red
to shining protection. Instrument gaps are sealed
with metal covers. Round-capped rivets
grip the lesser joins. Heavy bolts bond plates.
I knock my knuckle on the coal tender
and sense the solid wall. I have not met
you before but I have travelled with your cousins
the iron ships, around our coasts and to the pack ice.
There is a family resemblance.