Thursday, 15 August 2019

A white man dreaming while sitting on his front porch:

 
Rivers snake across the ground
as sun catches the water, scales reflect,
sear the eye; behind the closed lids
footprints of luminous red sand,
above the curved tin roof, hidden by day
stars the same and different, known figures
turned upside down, scrutinize.

From the branded and beloved familiar,
plants transplanted into mulched soil,
blue cottage flowers sway, fruit trees, fruit flies,
bruised, fallen rose petals, the quiet suckle of aphid –  
loaded shotgun demands attention, hungry
for twitch of rabbit and fox – if you have to kill
better it’s the carcass of an animal you comprehend.

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