Retrieved poem: Hot Days

in this town
summer days are songless
brute sun in a silent sky

banksias stand like stringless cellos
warbler whistles his choked phrase
from a melaleuca’s dry neck

in the cracked silence
a string player buries his fingers
in the soil

feeling for song



This is a poem from over a year ago, but I only found it again when I went trawling through my blog for another poem my wife wanted me to find.