Song of a Whitsunday Raindrop

we’ll sink the mountains from above 
close in on this dark jungle -
white sea foam and blow-fingered
palms that gesture in the topping breeze
disparaging the sky

all night on and on
the staccato drum
gentle as penury, these bloodless coins
tropical and fat dousing the grass 

flying night, 
we’re starless, and full of gossip
see the curlews tiptoe 
blinking

A curlew at our caravan park in Airlie Beach

4 thoughts on “Song of a Whitsunday Raindrop

  1. This is beautiful, Worms. These lines, I love:

    “disparaging the sky”

    “flying night,
    we’re starless, and full of gossip” – my favourite. Something so conspiratorial and special about this.

    Liked by 1 person

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