when the whistle blew
and dungareed men
from the lamb chain
downed tools
and rushed to the six o'oclock swill
We knew
the pub by the old bridge
on the bench outside its sawdust floors
old moko'ed women enjoying a pipe
brow lined chuckles
time slipping by
We knew
the shunting of trains
puffing steam on the branch line
steel carcassed with glowing coals
near the blood shoot
where boys fished with jags
We knew
when the Waitara whistle blew
