Swooping season
Row of gums above carpet of cushion-grass,
then field beyond field
cured into bladed bitumen,
bounded by the choked and searing road.
I saw the heat rise to shake the air
and chased a ball, deflating in kicks,
careful not to fall and graze
my elbows on the varicose earth.
We took shelter in the long border shade
and saw, taking shelter too, a maggie by her nest.
We ran past and tempted her in repeating taunts,
each growing in performance, until
a younger girl walked by and the bird dived:
the girl shrank to the ground
and from a tear in the skin of her brow
melted pale red wax.
Before the tears stopped, her blood had dried;
how we laughed, and how she cried.
