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Night as a Currawong.

A flash is all you’ll see, when
Currawong flits from tree
To ground, and then lost
In the vast blue air,
You might capture something,
A spirit there.

Nobody knows what they’re really called,
Spirits of something we cannot name,
Lost in clouds, lost in earth.

If, you should be lucky, and see,
That Currawong King, breathing a song,
Frozen in time, the call curvilinear,
Breathing that which is free.

Climb certain mountains,
Look upon those seas,
A lost language caught
In the wild, the scree.

They were here when you were here,
A marker, a timer, a sentinel
Flew across the bush, carrying words,
Talking in language, and free.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
The Currawong is endemic in Tasmania. I thought it needed another voice. This is rough, but I shall return.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

please do! I am interested in the phenomena myself. I would like to see where this goes. ~ Geezer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Tautological as that subject may seem, I love Currawongs, Rooks, Ravens, Crows, whatever bird family that may be. I'm no ornithologist, but I love the secret language they share. I sometimes wonder if they witnessed our conquests and the way we treated the indigenous peoples of these lands, and passed that down through their family flocking trees.

Thanks for reading mate, I'm slowly growing back into a place I used to be, and it's good!

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Hello!
I am no ornithologist, either, but I do love birds and have learned so much from your poem. I have never heard of the currawong, so I visited my friend, the www. Their nightly call is beautiful! Here in North America we have crows and magpies, and they have always felt very wise and mystical to me. It seems the currawong is of the same nature. I treasure your words "Lost in clouds, lost in earth" - when I am hiking or bird watching, I hear birds long before I see them, and many times they remain elusive. Spirits, for certain. Although your poem is definitely another strong voice for the currawong, I like its quiet essence which draws me even closer to the magic of the currawong.

Thank you!
Lavender

Lavender is just starting to appear in our hemisphere. I often walk into town with my partner, grab a bit from a garden, then squish it between my fingers, then let the smell envelope our senses. Some of them are less fragrant, some are perfectly sweet. Anyway, Lavender is a great name!
I agree, that birds of that family, are exceptionally intelligent. I walked to the top of Cradle Mountain here in Tassie, and I was greeted at the top by a very receptive and emotionally intelligent Currawing, who sang me a song whilst I was trying to regain my breath! I love all Crows, Ravens, Currawongs, and birds of a similar feather. I think they are beautiful, and there are so many colours you can see (not just black) when you look closely.
Thanks for reading!
Cheers,
Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

I feel an affinity for crows and Ravens. one of my favorite poem is the product of EA Poe's. your poem really spoke to me. especially these lines:

A flash is all you’ll see, when
Currawong flits from tree
To ground, and then lost
In the vast blue air,
You might capture something,
A spirit there.

Always, Cat

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