Which way is south?
Two ditches from the mother's light
There are small shoulders cupped
The leaning man, two handed and slow
Turns the two of the them south.
Man and boy, beneath an easy wind
Dance around like solemn courtesans
One in working boots, yellow with the day's clay
One in tiny sandals fresh from the tow
Of tide-gripped sinking sand
Toe filling tumbling sand.
Still ankle wet and now
Dry-mouthed from the wait
The boy looks up
First to the father's smokey head
Then to the sky.
Suddenly, silently, like a secret watcher
There is Mars
Big bottomed son of Jupiter
Ruddy warrior
Great blinking elephant of the southern sky.
George Shorten