Dawn Solo
by Stephen Edgar •
First light beside the Murray in Mildura,
Which like a drift of mist pervades
The eucalypt arcades,
A pale caesura
Dividing night and day. Two, three clear notes
To usher in the dawn are heard
From a pied butcherbird,
A phrase that floats
So slowly through the silence-thickened air,
Those notes, like globules labouring
Through honey, almost cling
And linger there.
Or is it that the notes themselves prolong
The time time takes, to make it stand,
Morning both summoned and
Called back by song.
Comment (1)
Also congratulations on writing a poem thatoffered me a prosody to enjoy, and for the enormous courage (in these most bizarre times, poetically speaking - forget about Covid-19, poetry has been sick for a long time) of using rhyme! It is used well.
Bravo!