Friday, August 4, 2017

James Walton #66 A Tawny Frogmouth Calls

all night the mopoke asks
how to restrain the dawn
preferring the dark romance
of a prayer in anonymity

unspooked by examining moon
hidden by philosophical niche
an urn of the tails of things
unscripted by human tongues

harsh judgements cast by summary
in the shriek of meal governed time
the hunt a flying suitcase capture
wraps around any scurrying thing

life spills messed vacation clothes
a pin prick undoing of finest needlework
fertile as the surgeon’s scalpel
where the brutal edge sings

disappearing within morning foliage
slow as a nocturnal drunken handclap
between each eye’s blinking rotation
settling feathers like a gardening glove


  1. Very fine, James. I particularly like:

    "an urn of the tails of things
    unscripted by human tongues"

    Good to see you back.

  2. P.S. Reminds me of Lawson. The bush as nurse and tutor of eccentric minds... :)


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