My window overlooks a knoll
where artisans once built a stage,
small, decades old,
encased in timber,
resonant with foliage.
The theatre seldom hosts a play,
but to the grove at close of day
flock raucous lorikeets, to flare
like gaudy sparks
on drab khaki.
And as the summer
sun burns low, the gaunt limbs
of the gums spurt flame,
a bacchanal of cries and hues,
cacophony
as daylight fades.
Christmas Day, Australia, 2003
My Window Fills with Lorikeets
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103122600274
Свидетельство о публикации №103122600274
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