Sky Games

the ceiling fan

churns the humid air

a downward spiral of relief

for the storms have stayed inland again

moving parallel to the coast

as they bluster their way north

from my chair I can hear

the distant crash of thunder

I imagine the lightning striking down

and rejoice in the humidity

too wet for bushfires I think

the long humid days of summer

began about a month ago

when spring died an early death

and the sky gods started to play their games of war

 

 

Copyright Dec 2015

Storm

On the cusp of dusk

The rain comes

At first on dainty little feet it treads

Dampening the grass with tiny steps

Then as its anger seems to grow

It pelts all with a mighty roar of defiance

As if this dry earth stands in the way of greater things

 

 

Copyright January 2015

Cycles

I can feel the sigh of the land

Roots drunk on tropical punch

After a summer of sobriety

Watching the withering weak

The survivors drink deep

For within the memory of the land

And all its inhabitants contained

Drought follows flood follows drought

So while we wallow in the mud with the worms

The future beckons with a thirst

Satisfied only in retrospect

 

 

Copyright March 2014.