the windmills
face south
almost still,
the twilight
turning them
pale lavender-pink
to match the eastern sky
in the west
the sun has gone down
and the pink is more yellow
the kereru takes a
last bedtime snack
of tagasaste leaves
and the Australians*
screech like
argumentative teens
as they settle for the night
in the highest branches
* the Australians = sulfur-crested cockatoos
No comments:
Post a Comment