Today I drove through the suburbs
leaving the starry city behind,
headed out on the quiet highway
by junction 12 — you know the one.
I drove with eyes closed,
wanting no distractions near
as I retraced my youthful steps
to the place I once held dear.
I left the highway as once you charged:
left — left — top of hill — left!
then the third red house
on your right.
I waited by the polished door
for the dog to scratch and bark,
but no signs of the furry Chincas
to greet my dogged heart.
I rang the creamy doorbell twice
expecting the wonted Dot or Bear
to greet me like they always had,
a long long time now passed.
I searched the yard for signs
of
love,
of
passion,
of
the truth
of
why I came to be
here.
Today I drove
through the suburbs — slowly
needing to forget your truths
— unspoken.
Today I drove through the suburbs
leaving the starry city behind,
headed out on the quiet highway
towards Templestowe — once home.