Cloudy night—
not enough stars
to make frost
haunted house—
one room the cattle
never would go in
mowing done—
each thing's a ship again
on a wide green harbour
purification—
newspapers soaked in rain
before they are read
an airliner, high—
life falling in from space
to ramify
rodeo bull
he wins every time
then back on the truck
only one car
of your amber necklace
holds a once-living passenger
afternoon plains—
the only hill ahead
is the rising moon
eels'
liquid jostle through the grass
that night of the year
big pelican, begging,
hook through one yellow foot—
and nobody dares
on line
the first motor car
trotting without a horse
joking
in a foreign language
everyone looks down
accused of history
many decide
not to know any
all the colours
of inside a pumpkin—
Mallee forest in rain
- Les Murray