Let maybe-owls or flutter-tongue frogs
plait sound-ropes – silk and polyphonic,
veronese green through grey –
with stuttering of staccato-moon crickets
to titillate the gladdening dark,
displacing and disgracing
hallowed ghosts away.
Published in Sunlight of Ordinary Days by Twelve Poets of the Peter Cowan Writers’ Centre. (2014)
