Winter evening on the Monaro
Cloud-light shivers the crow to louvred grey.
Riding the fence,
he sleeks to emerald against a blowing sun
flexing dark shadows down the slopes,
clouds bubbling up from the hills,
didgeridoo navies,
each a bruise in its rind of light.
ranking them on endless wind.
The sun drops and suddenly concedes
to windless dusk.
Now a moth, you must fall
towards the willows
lit gold like dandelions in the dark valleys,
must hover with their soft inverted palisade
static pour of gold threads gently, gently
starring the earth,
while up there on the still-lit edge of time,
the tussocks are rippling in furry waves.
Diamond night!
And no whisper.
Beautiful picturesque of the weather and time of happiness. Good
An insightful tale nicely penned in heightened poetic diction. Thanks for sharing Laurence.
What a unique way to put light wings onto you readers! I'm always intrigued and enjoy readings that start with a crow. You've successfully created mood and imagery with your lilting words....and I LOVE that you put a didgeridoo in there. Beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Extraordinary use of language! A masterpiece.