It's been a hot dry summer in this place.
Sunlight falls on the white kitchen bench tops
highlighting a film of red dust.
She waits for him to rise.
Months ago, the same sun,
had glinted off the bus window
as it pulled away, leaving them here
to make a difference.
Realising they were limited
by what they thought they'd had to offer
they had begun the task of surviving
alongside those who knew no other way.
A difference had been made in her
and on this day, with the realisation
that she had found an unlikely sense of place,
she knew, that for him, the leaving had begun.
As he sauntered into the white lit room
she asked him if he'd slept well
sleeping on borrowed time.
