Wednesday, June 18, 2014

AT THE BASE OF PLUMWOOD MOUNTAIN

The following poem was shortlisted for the next issue of Plumwood Mountain. Sooty Owls are one of the Australian birds that most impress me. Charcoal-grey with white spots, they favour valleys sporting dense eucalypt woodlands, are rarely seen, offer up falling bomb calls and shifting trills, possess massive dark eyes and intimidating talons. Not a bird you'd want to piss off. The first Sooty I ever saw was in the Devils Coach House at Jenolan Caves, one of the most sublime/gothic places in NSW. The poem here is factual and from an experience in 2012. I dedicate it to an old mate who's a fine birder.

SOOTY OWL
For Steve Edwards

As you had never met
a Sooty Owl before,

I guided us to Kioloa's
thinning upland reaches

fifteen minutes after
the horizon gulped daylight,

targeted a knotted gully, cast
a long line of Sooty-mimicry

into bleeding emerald gloom
for ten shivery minutes,

slowly reeled in everything
you depended upon.

LJ, June 19 2014.

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