The wondrous whistle of birds insistent
in the early evening warming breeze.
Stillness and life in the final shadows
of the closing cloudless day.
Expanse of native green unfurled
in the patchy wet and dry mud plain.
Echoes of distant voices fluttering in the
delight of early sun-spilled eve.
Coloured golden shadows thrown madly
across the sea of bush and green.
The breathing close and living fragment
of what once was large before the fall.
Water summer stagnant but alive
with the community of crab scurrying into homes.
New growth now masking the bare black soot
and charred remnants of the ravaging fire.
The moon half-eaten in the northern sky
smiles long at the scene, as sun abandons the day.
Walking in the beauteous abject loneliness
as a creature among creatures, near and far.