Wow, Androo, what a gift you have for pithy sentences! (And, for goodness'
sake, someone please supply me with a better-sounding descriptor than
"pithy"!)
Each image conjures careful sight-thought connections, each growing, layer
on layer, to a spectacular quiet mood. The poem's title, Androo?
Thanks for the poem!
Judy Da Blonde Bomb
----- Original Message -----
From: "Andrew Burke" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Wednesday, September 21, 2005 11:32 PM
Subject: [POETRYETC] snap
Weather today is about middling.
Young guitarists all learn a new
chord. River daisies search for
the sun. Two doors up the street
the schoolboy drummer learns
from a book but has no natural
rhythm. The cat holds its head in
its hands beneath the back pergola.
Beneath the clothesline the herbs
grow among like-minded weeds.
On the silent river two pelicans
patrol the banks, one up, one down.
An autistic boy swings his legs off
the jetty, staring at the corrugated
surface, and swings his legs again.
'Just the way her hair fell down
around her face' floats from a ferry
on a wine cruise. 'Another time,
another place.' And now
the sun.
Andrew Burke
21/9/05
Mt Lawley
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