I like it, Max. Playful yet timed to unfold at an appropriate pace. And the
picture of the two dogs coming from their night beds echoes here with my one
...
Andrew
On 12 August 2010 04:27, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Winter night soundtrack
>
>
> The heating on all night
> sounds like cabin noises
> in a long night flight.
>
> When you stir what you hear
> in your sleep-dulled ear
> has transported you
> through night sky
> under the Milky Way
>
> between Auckland, was it?
> and Los Angeles ahead?
> or are we flying
> the other way?
>
> Will we wake soon
> to the stirring of strangers
> and the morning duties
> of cabin staff,
> disorientation and
> stale dryness of mouth?
> the Date Line crossed once more,
> remember? but which way?
>
> No, all night we've flown
> from warm bed at home
> to warm bed at home.
> The stirrings are the two dogs,
> arrived from their night beds,
> the music is the hall clock
> in its tall case counting
> four, is it? five?
> let it be six and almost dawn.
>
>
> Max Richards
> in winter Melbourne
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
'Mother Waits for Father Late' republished available at
http://www.picaropress.com/
http://www.qlrs.com/poem.asp?id=766
http://frankshome.org/AndrewBurke.html
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