Indoors

Wind. Still. Still,

the neighbourhood

retreats

indoors to stillness

deserting

the city, except

a currawong

gathers flight,

darting

with grim determination

as scruff

flurries

always a few wingbeats

ahead.

 

A north-westerly.

My plants and I

are cowered,

the sweep of wind

complete.

 

Copyrighted by the author

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