On Friday nights, the planes take off
mere minutes apart, carrying laborers,
back to Perth, to their homes or holidays
for a week away from work demands.
We stay behind, watching the small
planes climb into the air in silence
or the almost unnoticed arrival
of another plane to join the queue
of passengers and pilots waiting to land,
the rumble reminding us of people
outside of the microcosm, the site,
the town, spreading their footprints.
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