Dangars Falls
the water rusted
breeze would have my hat
and glimmer
as in a hedge of weather
washed out grasses
shadows cast
bark in streamers
bulloak and black cockatoo
black cypresses
oceanic
the flowering tops
scrub tangle under
a fence is following here
even in this roaring green
still smells of the drought
awe
and maidenhair in the underfalls
all for scale, sublimity
years in their millions
wear to here
the gorge wattle, dogwood
just as high as we get
the sun
when it comes
as fresh as paint
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.