In the worn-down days of winter
the night sinks early
in mallee rooted smoke
The days seep slowly
from frosted whites
to saturate with green
The tattered shreds of cloud
are barely held together
by pins of light
A bolt of grey chiffon
has rolled across
the counter of the sky
Riding the tides of wind
wild writhing trees
are waves of unleashed energy
Hailstones
like iced pearl drop
and smash to earth granita
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