The giant floating gods of dawn gather In swiftly under the midday moon, Distant mountains disappear into shadow. Sunlight catches through breaks in clouds Falling lightly on shadowed patches. The constant breeze blows soft and cool Which stirs the world in the late day noon. The flesh-born, age-proof Morten Bay fig stands A testament against time and man Split and wracked the tall trunk rests on wide feet While searching fingers reach to feel the breeze Which gently moves the dark green leaves.
Memories of Bluestone recalled on a magpie's songs - Peter Scriven
- 73 x 97 cm