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Yes, Roger, creating the dynamics of the poem was/is difficult : from deminuendo to crescendo and then a denouement - not my usual style, so I'm having trouble not only writing and editing it, but _knowing_ which bits work and which don't. It is uneasy territory for me. Still, that is the best path to travel, isn't it - the one less travelled, to paraphrase old Bob. I'll have anothe swing at it in coming days while we are in Broome for three days r&r. We leave here tomorrow morning - sad and happy to leave, so mixed feelings today. Andrew On 07/12/2007, Roger Day <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > I really enjoyed this, however this bit seems to lack the punch of the rest > > > Dingoes slink in late day light > over the ridge with the sun behind them > moving together to > the constant shrilling of crickets > with the group dynamic > of an aboriginal dance company > slinking their bony brown bodies > toward him he pauses > > > > On Dec 5, 2007 6:58 AM, andrew burke <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > Walking out over a rough and rocky ridge > > walking where cattle tread carefully > > season after season > > and rain pooled yesterday > > walking over breakaways and rock spills > > remembering tracks in England > > steeplechasing over moors > > ordinance maps and compasses > > but here he walks mapless > > feeling his adopted land > > > > A calf runs by > > a calf too young to be alone > > he turns to watch its > > awkward gait as it scurries away > > Now the sun stretches his shadow > > until it is pencil sharp at his head > > striding community muddles > > out of his muscles out of his bones > > puzzles of one culture with another > > worksheets tallies of hours & money > > > > Dingoes slink in late day light > > over the ridge with the sun behind them > > moving together to > > the constant shrilling of crickets > > with the group dynamic > > of an aboriginal dance company > > slinking their bony brown bodies > > toward him he pauses > > their muscles and bones warn him > > they begin a wide circle ragged circle > > an ovum collapsing com > > pressing as they slink their bodies > > about him a whine a yelp > > he walks faster show no fear > > turns walks backwards on his heels > > a few yards inspecting the pack > > they tighten their ragged circle > > before around and behind him > > picking up the pace his pace > > he stoops and picks up stones > > feels their comfort in his palms > > looks ahead to plan his way > > looks back and aims at the nearest dog > > who ducks and the ripple > > runs around the ring > > around the ring > > another rock this time a yelp > > he's hit his mark > > he yells out loudly uselessly > > 'get lost ya bastards!' > > still fear rises in him as they close > > and pant heads low focussed on him > > he lets fly with a volley of stones and shouts > > and walks faster and fast over > > roughest rock breakaway ahead > > the pack hangs back > > he raises a finger high in the air > > as he strides away > > showing bravado > > no fear > > > > -- > > Andrew > > http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ > > http://www.flickr.com/photos/aburke/ > > > > > > -- > My Stuff: http://www.badstep.net/ > "In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons." > Roman Proverb > -- Andrew http://hispirits.blogspot.com/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/aburke/