the sky’s a lambent column
all the way to space.
the forecast is clear
(though someone may have said)
not a feather on my radar
just the ochre coast bifurcated blue —
and yet
crickets in the lawn
thistles heavy heads down
mynahs from branch to branch
crow caws and ahs
and the ants are mounding in —
and yet
it’s all quiet in my looking —
the sun beats like summer again
though it’s already late;
from here the waves
form and fall as normal
across the entire expanse.
there’s nothing really but
wait, some tremble in the door frame,
the rumble of a coal train,
a car carrier past the breakwater
or thunder way off but coming on
is it here already?
Image: Room 7, Coastal Comfort Motel, Narooma, NSW. A seasonal piece for difficult times, and linked to earthweal’s open link #11 – thanks Brendan.
And here’s the playlist of next Thursday’s concert with the Australian Chamber Orchestra, which was cancelled last night because of you-know-what…
Peter Frankis writes 
Wonderfully descriptive. You took me there.
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Thanks Sherry.
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Peter, particularly liked first two lines, the ochre coast bifurcated blue, the specifics right through but especially the waves forming and forming as normal across the entire expanse, the tremble in the door frame, coal train and car carrier…Peter
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Thanks Peter – so glad you liked.
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I was going to this same concert in Canberra on Saturday. Love the repetition of ‘and yet’ in the poem, and the later but/wait.
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Oh yes, I think it’s here already – despite the beauty of our autumn seas and skies. Wonderful poem.
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Thank Rosemary, sadly.
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Peter, love the mirror of the mind in nature with its bifurcation. Very perceptive–the way our sense of foreboding spreads to what in other circumstances might be innocent beauty.
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