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Below Northcote Rise, Yuletide

by James Walton (follow)
Once I lived in an old house
at the bottom of Rucker’s Hill
with a renovated lean to kitchen
that hung over the steep back
like a galleon moored in air

a Liquid Amber grew massive there
thrushes cleaned their beaks
thrashing the mace and chain pods
that made bare feet bleed
like the lain dead of Agincourt

out of the crenellated bi fold bark
cicadas droned longing to be fish
screeched vibrating abdominal drums
frogs leapt swallowing their dreaming
like a snarling dog at its bowl

the front room tenant with muffled ears
practised Chopin defying Napoleon
his Polonaise overcome by scarab shrill
in the incessant chorus of membranous wings
like a swarm of barley sugar effigies

last seen scrambling uphill
hands on ears to escape the courting cry
heard muttering ‘enough of this world’
‘enough of this cannibalism’ as Christmas beetles rose
like a dust storm from the tram inlays

Photo courtesy of Environment East Gippsland (my Yuletide bush log)
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