Poetry Blogs (rustle)
While poring over dusty corners of an ancient night
I sang in darken'd evening flight, a voice edged
by the pain of doubt, a tempered blade to fight
an inner shout; the fearful dredge
of insomnia, the purgatory of my silent gaze;
remembrance too of sultry Australian dog days.
South-West karris loom ink-black, and rustle
as night-walkers, stepp...
Friday 27th October 2017 12:55 pm
This poem carries faint echoes of winter in a Mediterranean climate, in this case the South West of Western Australia; limpid skies, stormclouds threatening, people in overcoats walking hastily. Rather like an English summer, I would have thought!
And Now I'm Old
And now I'm old as softening apples
left forgotten on a sideboard
after a windy day,
the murmur of the evening room...
Thursday 19th October 2017 11:09 am