Bookend

It was like a soft night in Melbourne

Or like trains or distant trumpets

Up early to hear birds sooth

A gentle grey sky that sounded blue

I thought about the mountains in my heart-window

How that bright cloud flowed down the saddle

Of the Jungfrau, the real Jungfrau of one thousand poems

Cumulus sitting white and low and lit

Like a lazy dragon’s exhale

I won’t forget

The cow-flavoured, blacksmith-woodfire scent

Noise of building-works nearby

And an early morning’s nostalgic lament

Farewell

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s