Cicadas’ white noise
winding tunnel vision of gums
reeds, burnt out stumps, ferns;
it's that noise that lets my ego apart

Dishevel myself amongst the river pebbles
stained glass mountains' might in every distance.

Swimming to let the weight of my pack wash off
alone, singing madly to the sky
threnodies of alibis to my distant family

Cupping the cold water and splashing myself;
a lizard lazes opposite with an arm over a broken branch
calm body submerged in the river's flow.

Wander back to the campsite
where two kookaburras hark my footsteps
chime at me as they flock into the crowns.

Gum shadows falling to the earth
the mountains feast 'pon the sun.

A fire sparks in the distance
where two travellers melt marshmallows.
I join them to boil up the river,
gulp it down.

A bilby skittles through torchlight
towards a mate's shrill call;
the man, a seafaring British
scans the trees for 'koala bears'
while the woman beside, sitting on a fallen log
panics about ants – she says with conviction
'everything bites in Australia.'

Returning to my campsite
four German boys got lost finding their way here
had started drinking from the wine bladder,
now alight with fired belly chortling
setting up tents and hammocks in the comfort of their torchlight
drunken mumbles I do not bother trying to decipher...

Alone in my tent, it is hard to tell
am I awake or asleep?
But as the tone of the shell of my tent changes
thank god
I know I've slept before the dawn
so let my sleeping bag off

In the morn's chilled river
feeling my consciousness come to,
where mind meets body.

The 9am sun through the cathedral of gums
mating cicadas against the blue sky
my tent is packed, my bag is loaded, my boots are tied
and I leave the campsite.