Bora born
Mizzle road _
The paddock morphed again cloaked by a starry
blanket, a true shape changer par excellence.
Two weeks of 24/7 wrapped in wet.
The grass so lush weeps green as fresh lettuce, each
blade moisture laden in dewy necklaces
solarised micro worlds most leave sight unseen.
The song birds of the world's living ancestor
the crazy pee wees, hassle the hi-lux in
a never ending ritual of sexual bliss.
Narcissism finds it's root reflection in
a glassed rear view mirror in need of company
the windscreen or side windows their next choice bling!
The ridge road penetrates the extinct cauldron
seeding a patch work quilt of green on both sides.
But it's winter in the mountain rain forests.
The solar rays lift the misty night blankets
off denuded treeless grassy slopes, a quiet
reminder to all she still protects her own.
- O -
© may 2011 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
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Mizzle road _
Mizzle road _
