Inspecting the Rivermouth
by Les Murray
Drove up to Hahndorf:
boiled lamb hock, great scoff!
Lamplit rain incessant.
Next morning to the Murray mouth,
reed-wrapped bottling of view
grigio and verdelho.
Saw careers from the climbing bridge,
the steel houses it threw
all over Hindmarsh Island,
the barrages de richesse,
film culture, horseradish farms,
steamboats kneading heron-blue
lake, the river full again.
Upstream, the iron cattle bridge.
So. Then a thousand miles
home across green lawn.
