Perth 121

Perth 121, a photo by Tram Painter on Flickr.

POETRY BY GRAHAM LEES

Back in the years before the war when I first came to this land,
What we call the suburbs now was mostly scrub and sand.
The streets were rough and pot-holed from hoof and heavy load.
They laid two iron tram rails down the middle of the road.

From the Causeway down to Como and through Victoria Park
These wooden beasts would glide along from dawn till after dark.
To Claremont and to Subi, from Perth to Inglewood,
I'd ride those Perth Electric Trams as often as I could.

On Saturdays, Mum, Dad and I watched football in the town.
We'd catch the tram down Beaufort Street and then 'shank' it to the ground
And when I started courting, I lived out in the 'sticks'.
My girl and I would catch the tram to and from the flicks.

But streets and times got better. More motors shared the road.
The council said the tramway would finally have to go.
They all were old and past repair, their days were at an end.
Modern fleets of diesel buses were the latest trend.

But sometimes on a summer night when I'm hot and half asleep,
I dream I hear those wooden trams, rattling down the street.

Perth 121 by Tram Painter