Falconer's dawn

What is the motive of light?
Birds rise like night from the soil,
beautiful wing-made murmur fading,
the intake of breath
so slight and slurred.

From my maps
the lake is nameless.
The moon seems too heavy,
stumbling in cloud.
Birds have moved into my arms
and are flourishing.
The glistening, brittle
world is mine.

Birds fly as the melody pours.
Let them come twice
past my outstretched hand.
Let them tangle and list
and submerge
as day lays down its mother-of-pearl.

Emma Lew
Richmond Australia

Have you seen the writing on the wall

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Managing Editor: b stephen harding, Editor: Robert Craig, Consulting Editor: Seymour Mayne, Art Consultant: Kane Faucher
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