Thursday, September 02, 2010

Faith

















The pond
struck dumb by drought.

ducks, dragonflies and frogs

oh the frogs...., all shot through.

The stricken face laid bare,

cracked and bleached like a dislodged skull.
It won't come back.
In fact
it'll sound down the country
like a creeping parasitic moan.



Now..... rains
beat out of a lusty sky
all flash and clamour

heaving

with such urgency

to jibe and tack

three days and nights,

the piracy of a damn fool flood

hissing and crackling and taunting

the comatose country

to... rise.

Rise up

you sleeping rivers and lesser beds,

I flush and swell your streams and creeks

rise up rise up

the sound of fortune sings in your valleys

awake and sail in my largesse

billow and bloom again

billow and bloom again

prettier than a piece of eight.


Now the frogs are back!!
The frogs are back

with their rat a tat tat
machine gun chat

Nailing positions
just to be sure,

just to be sure.

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