Dungog On The Train
                    
I went to Dungog on the train
I just went. I said fuck it and went
From Sydney I got off at Hamilton
Mum called and said dad wasn't well
I got a coffee for the ride out
A very small diesel Newcastle train
Maitland then into the bush
Laughable platforms a metre wide
One guy got on with a bike
I thought about escaping Sydney
For the 'quiet life' in such places
But all the noise is really in your head
You carry it like war wound shrapnel
From childhoods lived and survived
Finally Dungog slid into view
'Should I wait for the train after next?
I've never been to Dungog before'
I said to the friendly staff member
A bearded older man, gently spoken
'That's a two hour wait' he confided
Would I see more of the town that way?
'That would be the comprehensive tour'
I laughed and bounced into the street
A beautiful old 1920s picture theatre
Still in use by the looks, how charming
The town was old enough to remind me
Of childhood before all the development
Posters for an acoustic duet at the pub
It didn't take long for my anxiety to return
I'd been fighting it all week
Dungog was an attempt at hoped for relief
Still, even with mild panic you appreciate things
A smile from an old lady walking past
I went back and jumped on the same train
Twenty minutes in Dungog
Enough excitement for my nerves that day
Back at Newcastle a friendly and beautiful
Attendant told me I had a 'good vibe'
I could have kissed her
I could have said 'own me fully forever'
Kindness and even showing interest in a stranger
It made it all worth it
Me and my nerves and my history and life
Propelled my weary bones back to Sydney
But at least with some renewed hope
The curry pie in Dungog was ok
The coffee in Hamilton likewise
You just do things in life and hope right?
Hope against hope that there's hope
And even belonging, of all things