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Lyn's June Post

6/2/2013

2 Comments

 
 

Morning

He has feasted on light. 

Blinds clatter, slice the sun.

Out there in the bottlebrush lorikeets screeching,

same as before.

He perches beside her, tells her about the day.

‘Cumulus’ he says.

She was there when the clouds were down,

marvelling at the patience of cows,

hearing the kookaburrah announce he’d seen it first.

A solitary pine, ragged scarecrow,

was poking through the white.

She’d watched the clouds remember they must move on. 

Later they’ll have breakfast outside,

convince themselves the air is clear enough to see the coast,

each of them believing they were there first.

-Lyn Browne

2 Comments
Dee link
7/7/2013 02:34:41 pm

Hullo Lyn, I was there in the scene when I read your poem. Lovely atmosphere. Could be an early rising couple, or maybe even the lorikeets talking!
I wrote you a short one on our meeting at Moffat and was going to take a photo to accompany it, but haven't done so far, Here it is:
A MEETING AT MOFFAT
The sun struck noon
sea tranquil in its
slow white waves
approaching the timeless shore.
Poets hungry, sat
unaware, as more immediate
thoughts and talks prevailed.
Norfolk pines stood stately,
table full, wine flowing,
no competition in their
silent observation.

wish you had been there.
Dee

Reply
lyn browne
7/20/2013 06:41:14 pm

hi Dee, just love the idea that it might be the lorikeets!
I enjoyed the Moffat Beach poem, it brought it all back, the power of those 'slow white waves' .
Am ticking off the weeks till our return.
Lyn

Reply



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