when I recall the summer of my winter dreams
I see a road unwinding
inviting me to cross red plains
that spell of far horizons
in the summer of my winter dreams
rain exists…but only as sprinkled dew
mornings are crisp
days are clear
and where spinifex grows slow
as if by chance strange flowers bloom
in the heat of a desert sun
and only these mark night’s cold stay
starlight and the moon
Susie Faint
2014
all I see are your bright eyes
your smile tracing the sound of bird …
come little warrior
under my wing tuck your silky head
bundle all your plump pinkness
your baby-quick breath
into the heart of my feather nest
you can gather my hair in tight dimple-fists
and gleefully pull
if you insist
cover my face with urgent wet kisses
till the sun climbs the sky …
and if you persist
I shall know it is time
for you to be fed
to warm you a bottle
to leap out of bed
Susie Faint
(re Lachlan 11 months 1/10/12)
imagine lying in the sun each day
where lawn grows thick and insects play
where beetles fiddle to butterflies’ trysts
and blue wasps hover as lawn grubs twist
while ants must scavenge for every crumb
all this happens as cicadas strum
imagine lying beneath clear skies
lulled by twitters and rustling leaves
till a breeze steals the warmth from the day
and when the sun sinks at last for a rest
and cobwebs are strung between trees
then night shall be a riot of stars
and not rain nor thunder nor clouds nor tides
will hide or banish the moon
when grass springs thick and cicadas strum
when the scar on the path isn’t there
imagine the plea in large brown eyes
a nose to the ground from the gate to the dunes
how the tip of a tail lit the way
to those wonderful trails by the sea
Susie Faint 16/7/14
here I am once again in somerset
the heat of the day is done
red in hand I sit by our van with a hum
book on knee ‘neath a tree
and watch from our hill the activity
I swear that crow is winking at me
pelicans flirt on the calm
noisy miners at last nestle down
boats bobbing at ramps promise marin for tea
and a breeze hesitates as the setting sun paints
sky and waters of somerset
shades of pink and violet
darkening to plum
the whisper of night has come
campfires flicker near tents pitched wide
the better to watch wood smoke rise
true as those iron barks grow
while our southern stars rake a canopy
that but for them would otherwise be
black as indian ink
Susie Faint
20/11/13
(somerset is Somerset Dam in SE Qld; the hum is a low rather companionable sound emanating from a generator for the caravan; marin are fresh-water lobsters.)