Up country blackens with forked flashes Of anger upon craggy peaks, whirlwinds Pirouette and dance down dusty woven beds As first travellers splat the obscured pane Observed achingly by a land seasoned man He senses the twilight hours eagerly grasp Foggy recollects of a spirited homely stead Overlooking lush songful acres in chorus Sending a burly saddled bloke to muster Now abandoned gaze out to parched, cracked Surrounds screaming thirst. A weary head slumps He feels the rigid clutches of a mortal summer Deluge barrages the ragged frame, rusted Gate swings furiously concerted with flapping iron Imminent in departure. A metronomic rocking Followed by solemn eyes, a loyal soldier alone In battle. Sullenness broken by his chilling howl He knows the feeble strokes falter Awakens, anxious strained glance across the valley Catching murky glimpses of the old caretaker Oak, gate-keeper of the after-life, sees his place Nestling hers as the misty curtain descends Finally waltzing their eternal encore She embraces, whispering …
