Dropping off the bitumen, onto the red dirt drive.
Dodging, straddling, backing off, corrugations, pot holes strewn,
along the red dirt drive.
Bull dust surfs off the steerers, pushed out by the drives,
obliterates trailers and load
on the red dirt drive.
We’re dodging ‘long quite steady, making out a country mile.
Landscape changes constantly,
upon our red dirt drive.
Sand hills plot our course, along the red dirt drive,
dust billows rear and sides.
Broadcast across the country, prevailing wind decides.
Day in, day out, well in each night.
Late night quiet respite, engine idles, fix a tyre.
Sluice dregs of blackened billy tea, get back and make a mile.
Out on the red dirt drive.