Fox guarding at dusk

[Recent poem. The last stanza describes, I think, a more-than-personal sense of something slipping, slowly emerging… At the moment eastern Australia, in NSW and Queensland, is burning at a catastrophic level, intensity and extent never seen before. Sydney and many other towns have been covered in above-hazardous-level toxic smoke or haze for weeks, and summer has just started…Even rainforests are burning in Queensland. The worst level of predicted climate emergency is here now, questions of possible sheer unlivability are slowly being raised, we are in extreme drought and water levels have fallen precipitously, agriculture is slowly collapsing throughout NSW and Queensland… I am participating in Extinction Rebellion’s first non-violent direct action here in this conservative country district in February… Took photo of anvil cloud here two winters ago.]

Fox guarding at dusk

Through silences, soft aeroplane drone
slipping slowly
in a high arc of emptiness

Grey evening sky, cardboard-flat, spiked
by gaunt charcoal
limbs of a half-dead wattle

A distant wave of traffic like receding rain,
a quiet easterly
bringing in sea’s cool stillness

Our six red hens still picking, scraping
for nano food
in drought’s dull dust

I think the hen-yard cherries are early
this year, joyously stripped
by grandsons keen to climb

and gorge, their Now as yet unshadowed
by the stale nothingness
of knowledge, fear

Faintly now a sense of some slow slipping,
tilting on some unknown
edge, waiting

~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on December 13, 2019.

One Response to “Fox guarding at dusk”

  1. …the unforgivable legacy we’re leaving…

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