Gillian - at Armidale

I remember going to one of my beloved university sessions in Armidale.
It was a cold Autumn,
but the wonderful carpet of autumn leaves
was always worth a dance or two
spinning the leaves into a frenzy
a mad
endless
chaos

the hill to climb each day to lectures from the student quarters
was rather steep
and rather long
so we had the time to dance

But I remember most
the last night
waiting for a bus
a running late bus
that was to take us back to Sydney.

All the bags
gathered with a bunch of weary students
waiting and waitng
for a bus
beneath a stark street light

Time seemed trapped in
a breathless limbo

until a guy suggested
that we take it in turns
to recite some poetry.

After all, we were English students.

He took the first round

Suddenly
we were winged to
a magic realm
of minds and heart
and songs of the soul

we relaxed
and drifted with
the impromptu music

others followed

but somehow

the first song
was
the best song

the bus arrived
lots of apologies

and somehow

we were sorry
we felt sad

we felt sad
that a special
window

had now
closed