Brian, I especially enjoyed as you got slightly crazed, starting "Holding
candles I think I can almost see" and then got extra-crazed in the final
stanza, the last 4 lines which're magnificent.
Best,
Judy
2009/7/7 Brian Hawkins <[log in to unmask]>
> My pleasure Judy, here's one somewhat topical:
>
> LYREBIRDS
>
> Lyrebirds shoot fireballs of song
> At each other from fading gullies
> As I run through no man’s land
> Toward the sun’s brief bequest
> Of ephemeral gold, falling
> Like fire from the western sky
> Over the sharp, black mountains
>
> Imagining what stars already
> Must be winging closer and closer to me,
> Outstretched in space
> Holding candles I think I can almost see
>
> Until I reach a dip where the range
> Rears up like a drawbridge;
> Branches plunge into purdah
> The track glimmering like a sandy creek;
> And all the birds are hastily cramming brief-cases
> With sheet after sheet of ethereal music
> To scoot off into the dangerous darkness
> On broomsticks of silver feathers.
>
>
>
> --- On Fri, 3/7/09, Judy Prince <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> > From: Judy Prince <[log in to unmask]>
> > Subject: Re: Snap: Horseshoe Dusk
> > To: [log in to unmask]
> > Received: Friday, 3 July, 2009, 4:24 AM
> > Sounds lovely, Brian! Do let us
> > read more of your Great Lonely Road made-up
> > poems and fragments.
> > Best,
> >
> > Judy
> >
> > 2009/7/2 Brian Hawkins <[log in to unmask]>
> >
> > > Thanks Judy!
> > >
> > > The Horseshoe is a great lonely road where I often go
> > running in the
> > > evening, making up poems and fragments.
> > >
> > > Brian
> > >
> > >
> > > --- On Thu, 2/7/09, Judy Prince <[log in to unmask]>
> > wrote:
> > >
> > > > From: Judy Prince <[log in to unmask]>
> > > > Subject: Re: Snap: Horseshoe Dusk
> > > > To: [log in to unmask]
> > > > Received: Thursday, 2 July, 2009, 3:08 AM
> > > > I like this li'l poem and its title.
> > > >
> > > > Best,
> > > >
> > > > Judy
> > > >
> > > > 2009/7/1 Brian Hawkins <[log in to unmask]>
> > > >
> > > > > HORSESHOE DUSK
> > > > >
> > > > > Blackbutt shadow puppets
> > > > > crook inky fingers
> > > > > against the sky's gold screen
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Brian
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > >
> > >
> >
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