Wings

Endless warmth and brush turkeys

return to jostle with magpies

in the dry leaves of rainless

days. Bird’s long frolic:

lorikeets as if spring blooms

in the melaleuca, miners

jousting with coconut fibre

and raphiolepsis winged

again, and again it is drought

and the wrens have gone

and seabirds are disappearing

and everywhere there are people

without food

 

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Fire Sky

The drought continues

even as leaves

speak of autumn.

 

Mining the land

speaks of leaves.

More trees are leaving,

felled forests of life.

 

We have become

the surface planet,

surface hard, brittle.

 

Imagine the jobs

to replant our patch

so that it becomes

the planet it was.

 

I digress: tonight

bush burning

turned the dusk

to fire

 

Copyrighted by the author