Emily Gap, east of Alice Springs, an ancient ceremonial site of the Aranda Aborigines.
Poetry
- John C Egan
SHAY GAP
Between the lines the weeds grow rife
The sleepers by white ant are eaten,
The mile posts sag and lie on the ground
By the elements they are beaten
But don’t turn back from this rusted track,
Neglected throughout the years,
But follow it on and soon you will come
To a heap of rusted gears.
This was the place where the loader stood,
If you listen you’ll hear it’s roar.
See the ghostly shape of the loco there – Pulling out with it’s load of ore.
Then climb the hilll that towers above,
To the crusher – a skeletal scene.
It brings to mind, some blokes I knew
Like ‘Bazza’ and “Concave Green.
Just over there, can you see through the glare?
Yes, that was the site of the mine
Now it’s just a scar on the mountain side
You can see where the wedgetail is flying
Now if you walk back along this old track,
To that flat-topped hill over yonder,
You can gaze down on the site of the town
There’s not a lot left to ponder
That was Shay Gap, the shoe box town,
In it’s hey-day a modern wonder.
It’s derelict now, but for me it lives on
In the hills that echoed with thunder.
Where are they now – the people I knew
The friends that I made and our neighbours
Those were happy days, I remember well
And we enjoyed the rewards of our labours.
But the ore ran out, and the mine shut down,
We lost our means of existence
But we loved this place – it will always live
It’s memory won’t fade in the distance.
It was a way of life that we came to love
It was just a small dot on the map
I know that however long I shall live
I shall never forget the town of Shay Gap
COMMENTS
THE PSEUDO BUSHY A Wondrous Journey–Pitjantjatjara–Ayers Rock
