Mustered thoughts

Rust-stained shorts in a saddle
Spear grass cracking dry jokes to bored locusts
Creek-bound turtles paddle
In a tannin-rooted creek, coloured syrup
A roo-leather boot in a stirrup.
This.
Farmlife remembered, clear
Of gut-clenching fear
Of drought and fly-blown sheep.
Nay.
Just sweet-wafer recalls, in the main,
Horse-scents, country lanes.

Bryson Thomas

Leave a comment


Leave a comment