these days
all mowing’s been suspended
but for a gesture
a thin strip to
contain the bloom
of lantana, nettles
black jacks and
wild fennel.
bittou bushes
muscle the path
like bodybuilders
down a corridor.
with the rains
the savannah’s
returned
taller than
a toddler on tippy-toes
taller than a cry.
at night
lions gawp
& the horses worry their traces.
despite our
misgivings
we press on
(for the world
is already
a world away).
on the third day
we came to the
foot of the scarp
the ruined temple
the hewn steps
going down
the ante-room
alms tables and
dark drawn walls
and the ancient god
who weighs
each heart
against a feather
(and any future
endowments)
& there’s
the Westfield
with the fluros coming on.
Image: Savannah, Lake Illawarra yesterday evening. Posted on dverse open link night #263.
And for those of you journeying across your lounge-rooms, here’s Terry Riley with Shri Camel from 1980.
Peter Frankis writes 
I so love this : (for the world/is already/a world away). It really does feel like that right now.
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I had to dig in some to find a vantage, knowing you write from Australia & so “despite our / misgivings / we press on / (for the world / is already / a world away)” for me reads as “after catastrophe well into the next” — who thinks much of the aftermath of the great fires down under now that disease rages everywhere? Yet things do go on, the savannah returns after rains (was it once a lake?), the natural sings, the spirit finds old places to worship & there is shopping to do at the market, albeit less to buy than survive. Dunno if I read at all in line with your intent, but its a fine global example of what doesn’t quite fit in the grand plan of where we should be. But when did it and we ever quite fit?
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Thanks Brendan, glad you liked (my intent doesn’t really matter).
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I like the description of the savannah as “a toddler on tippy-toes
taller than a cry”.
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really juicy. love the plant names, followed the explorers for a bit, then i too got lost…
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Elusive, this one, like Osiris’s feather. I hope we have enough in the balance when it’s our turn.
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Thanks Jane – (hmmm. maybe a little redrafting on this one). Osiris was known as a generous, easily bribed god – so I’m sure we’ll be fine.
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Not necessarily (redraft). The poem is a journey and it goes it’s own way.
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(and it’s so interesting – the writing and the imagining and the standing back and wondering where it came from – it’s Ted Hughes’ Thought Fox).
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Everything starts from a thought, and just because we’re not quick enough to catch where it sprang from doesn’t make it any the less a fully-fledged, rounded and perfect thought.
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This is so beautifully written – it lifts up my soul reading your poem. Nature moves on, in its own beat, on its own time.
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You conjure another world here that’s thrilling and adventurous.
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So glad you enjoyed.
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Lovely poem. Thanks for publishing it. I’m now following your blog.
Here’s my idea of Arcadia https://thethinkingwasp.wordpress.com/2020/04/08/arcadia/ and a poem a little closer to home for you: https://thethinkingwasp.wordpress.com/2014/09/10/rowing/ and here: https://thethinkingwasp.wordpress.com/2015/04/23/mastering-breezy-tradewinds/
Please keep up the great writing. Love it!
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Thanks heaps, hope you enjoy the writing here. Peter.
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