Midnight Under The Moon. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

The cold of the gully mists
Cling to the silver ghost gum bark
Cries of an Owl spells capture
The rustle of passing bats
Advertise their presence
It's at times like this at night
That you will see those that
Smile in the yellow half light,
Watching the Dingo and the wild dog
Out on the flat ground stalking
The flying fox thumping
Into the blossoms of the
Dimly outlined and scented
Wattle, Penda and Tea Tree bloom
A wandering Western Brown
Quietly sliding down to sip
From the cattle perfumed water
And the faltering breeze wafting
Around the mist of the night
Only just enough to purvey the aromas
Of the nights handbag of river fragrance

It darkens as a wisp of cloud
Taunts a graven moon
And the dying embers of the fire
Glow and crackle
Like some witches I have known

No one knows I am awake
And smiling too.