after the fight
Saturday, January 17th, 2009after the fight,
I stormed from the
cool of the bluestone house
into the dry dirt yard
my face as hot as my temper.
the dust swirling at ground level.
the dogs followed my furious steps
down to the low paddock
where the lone horse named leo
leaned into the stand of
decades-old eucalyptus trees
that had grown into one another
over the course of several years.
the dogs with noses to the ground
were disinterested in my emotions.
they caught the scent of rabbit and wandered
a little ways off, zig-zagging past one another.
the horse shook his brown head
to fend off flies, so I took my hands
and cradled the long face
as the tickle of his soft nose hit my ear.
I was at peace here.
the land and the animals, my sanctuary.
I continued on, climbing over the wire fence to
where the dogs now had been trying to find
a fresher track. the dam was deep, cool
and the width of a river.
our golden dog jumped straight in,
and then out again,
and I watched the ripples of water flow,
echoing out from his disturbance.
O the memory of the day’s heat,
the bellbirds’ chirping ringing
high throughout the tree tops.
now my mind searches through memory for
other days there. for fascinating kookaburras,
for skinks, blue tongued lizards, cormorants,
storks, and heron and ibis.
i hold on to glimpses of draping
silvery green eucalyptus,
in both long and short leaves.
magpies caroling at dawn, and
a hillside of grey kangaroo cautiously grazing.
errant foxes skipping through the long grass,
swiftly clearing fences in the still-early mornings.
the sulfur crested cockatoo with their
dreadful screeching in flocks above.
the yellow tailed black cockatoo
cheekily squawking to each other in
the stand of tall pines as they feasted upon
green pinecones.
bats at dusk, rats drawn to the horses feed.
spiders of all description:
huntsman are big, but lookout for the redback and whitetails!
Once, a copperhead sunbathing on a rock.
possums growling in the night, and
playing at chase once the stars emerged.
periwinkle, kangaroo paw and freesia growing
wild in the neighbour’s paddock and
the red bottle brush, ever bold.
Our yard dotted with melaleuca bushes.
the reddish sunset, and now anger, for the most part, erased.
The mournful lowing of cattle from a nearby farm.
The dogs barking. the cool of the house always waiting.
These scenes, played over in my mind,
bring both longing and peace.
O my peace,
my piece of Australia!
