A Butcherbird Called - Poem by Danny Draper
A butcherbird called in the warm even air
From a silky oak apex behind a closed store,
It sang with a clarity and honest sincerity
Heralding days ending all over the Ridge,
As prospectors tired, trudged back to their digs
To dream neath nights opalescent spinning blanket,
A few stark silken verses tipped into smooth silence
And quiescence resumed belying appearance,
A message uncertain, black and white and replete
As if to a ghost town returned to the heat.
A butcher bird silent, flew it away
Over the high street of time drained resources.
Danny Draper 18/1/2014
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Butcher bird while at Lightning Ridge in New South Wales for a few days. Lightning Ridge is the opal mining capital in Australia and is in the arid outback.
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