the battle (do or . . .)

I have been following Frank Prem’s unique poetry for a while and quite recently read his ‘Devil In The Wind – voices from the 2009 black Saturday bushfires’ , little realising that a worse nightmare was unfolding in Australia. It’s already Saturday in Australia and as we sleep tonight Frank speaks for many towns and people facing fearsome fires.

Frank Prem Poetry

today is the day
(for the moment
at least)
that they say
might bring the creature
to our doorsteps

it will start out cool
then boil up
later on
into searing

looking out the window
the smoky haze
is not too bad

though I can still taste
yesterday’s plastic
in the air
and the stench
of burning rubber

what I notice
making the ground
seem like
a carpet that has come alive
is the flits
and the flights
of a cloud
of small blue butterflies

and we will stay

it has been decided

is our plan

in the township
we will not seek
to defend
at our door

there are places
to run
to be as safe
as anywhere else is

and we will do our best
to survive
with all our neighbours

I will go
to my workplace
in the afternoon
to undertake…

View original post 107 more words

8 thoughts on “the battle (do or . . .)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s