A sign - Epilogue
Walked down for a close inspection in the morning.
Sun sparkled from the sign,
as I neared.
And in the old crater,
the brand new steel pole,
inserted tidily,
nay seamlessly,
signlessly.
As though it had never been away.
Of my righting branch,
no sign.
But wait...
there, at the foot of the pole,
a white glint.
A bit of the broken branch?
No, the white object looked bigger...
and smaller.
Waited for a car to pass, then crossed the road.
On my haunches, I gazed
at the intact rictus
of a kangaroo skull.
Bill Woottton
15 August, 2012
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