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Jugiong Vernacular. By Brian ‘Ponch’ Wattchow for Gary Miles and his Jugiong Series

Jugiong vernacular is a rusty island fence post,

recovered from the old railway,

Which bought clattering Modernity,

To the valley and the bend in the river.

Is also an abandoned butcher’s shop,

Its skeleton walls remaining, and

Its meat hooks chiming

a sad gentle song

Is a sharp grid of canola yellow, and

a squinting bright corro-shed,

abrupt against curvaceous hills,

the seed sower gone to work another field

Is the fist walking path become a dirt track,

Become a bitumen runway, and

noisy airbrakes washing off too-much speed down the old hill,

then gears grinding up the new highway.

Jugiong vernacular

is puffy white clouds over green,

evaporating before summer yellow and, coming fast now,

Iron red horizons and skies of white heat.

Jugiong vernacular is a translucent rider at dawn

Sunlight passing right through man and horse,

The soft clop clop,

receding into the valley landscape.

It is a the valley remembered because seen

through primrose and lime wash, and

just edging above - a white cross -

Reminding us the people pray here

And quietly, softly, as the light

Passes right through him and

falls upon the canvas

We find the artist keeping alive the Jugiong vernacular.