After the fire

(the first line was written by Kenneth Slessor)

 

A bird sang in the jaws of night

Its crooning voice was low and sweet.

I listened, crouching, small and still,

And peered through new encircling leaves.

 

The smoky, sombre haze was still

In cleared arena dim and dark,

It hung in softly shadowed poise,

And hid the constant, friendly moon.

 

I looked upon the smoke-hazed orb.

 Sequestered in my hide of leaves

Until a whispered wind arose

And all around was blessed with light.

 

The bird flew down to circled gleam

A gentle light from high above,

Fell softly on the silvered wings;

Its plumage borrowed from the stars.

Susan Starr ©©©