It's not as good once you get there
like dreams brought into the open.
Just sand and a red, sluggish
current with crocs on the bend.
But I had to wade into the water -
the Archer River in Australia,
in Far North Queensland, far
from a schoolboy's inky finger
on an atlas, as far as the future
was then, now keeping my promise.
It's not as good once you get there -
but you don't have to go twice.