A True Tale; The Day Mum Lost The Ute Poem by Meriki Raelene ParkinsonFraser

out west of The Great Divide
where the summers dry & hot
where the Wiradjurie did reside
& where my dear mother's from

the Cudgegong River soothes it's way
as old Mount Frome looks on
he shakes a shiver they say for the day
he watched this story unfold

for true witness is old Frome
to all local hardship & fray
he's seen the squatters come & go
their tell tale dust from miles away

near a place known as 'where the heck's Lue'
Enid & Percival Ladmore sat
in their cottage with no electricity
near Mudgee in breedy Burrundulla Flats

for hours their daughter to visit was driving
in the old E.H Holden ute
she had her two boys 4 & 2 beside her
the third lay in wait engrossing her womb

& Trixie was there, that was mum's little dog
she'd come along for to visit
Enid & Percy on the River Cudgegong
where the mountains stand guard exquisite

mum knew quite well of a shortcut
to skirt there, save 15 miles
Greg had just had his tonsils out
the heat of the west took it's toll on the drive

so mum turned east before Mudgee
& old Mt Frome saw them take that road
aware of the river in flood.. he
could only be witness, he could only hope

as they drove over the 'Sheepwash Crossing'
'tis named Rocky Water Holes
the water was brown, churning & tossing
the old ute stalled then the torrent took hold

& to think, mother swam there aloft
as a teenager in those holes
just down river of that 'sheepwash'
where the water bumps & bowls

there though, now, she was begged by the same
as the lives of her children flashed through her
old friend demanding let me be thy grave
pulling & pleading to sleep in thy water

moments.. less, who can say
fear forced the car door open
desperate grabbed 4,2, in age
by the scruff of their clothes they were stolen

the Cudgegong River shoved & pushed
mum tightly held on to those clothes
the violent pounding, still it stood
in the heart of mighty Mt Frome

as witness there the old man took
to my mum save her sons
a woman with child, not even 5ft
overcoming the wrath of the Cudgegong

why, then, they didn't all drown
is a miracle worth wondering
the water took the old ute down
my dad found it months later diving

but the river couldn't fight my mum
old Frome saw it try in vain
out of that angry muck she swum
determined, to halt it's greedy claim

she threw on its' banks a child, then another
& struggled up the mud
to see a man, a local farmer
running to help if he could

the farmer then to the Ladmores'
they arrived shaken wet but safe
little Trixie went down in the roar
& mum's never been the same

'twas October when the flood claimed the ute
& the baby was due in March
but Jeffery was born months too soon
& he died, in his fathers arms

so old Frome saw the Cudgegong
try & take those lives that day
the river grasses sing a song
for Trixie the dog & Jeffery the Babe

since a girl of this tale I've known
& my mum still cries for Jeffery
as he did not live, I was born
to portray this, & to journey

Enid & Percy are since passed on
we don't often visit Mudgee
but the waters of the Cudgegong
are a bloodline of our family

my mum & dad met there as kids
they're not together now
the ute they dragged up by a winch
on the tree that they then found

they say my dad was keen
to push the ute back in it's tomb
seeing Trixie & the scene
what could've been, too much to consume

Mum a tower like old Frome
she went about her day
never crosses water but she's strong
strong enough to push rivers away

this is the almighty power
that my tiny mum has
she hides it usually somehow
beneath her genuine stature

why Frome himself should watch his step
while my mum's on this earth
he's limestone rock but a mere speck
for my mum after childbirth!