Wait for the smoke of a bush fire To char the tough fur black and dry And let drip a lean, beating tongue, Then paint its delicate ankles With bandages to sooth the burns. At this sorry sight, most would cry, So give its tail a cotton tip And stand its ears up like... Continue Reading →
Daytime shuts its eye, Leaving black velvet To drape the thinning light. Bold as a dream, A flashlight tears the canvas, Revealing a dazzling prince, Golden, awake.
Latching little hooks On a disused picture antenna The fledglings broadcast in chattering yips, squawks, squabbles and whistles That sometimes dip. Like they know that 1 is missing.