beneath my feet, stretch out.
Greens, browns, grass of burnt gold.
To the distance, indistinct horizon,
shimmering and hazy.
Above, suns sweet whisper of dawn,
reaches through branch and leaf.
Freckling the ground like random patchwork,
still damp from darkness’s nightly kiss
Kookaburra’s cackling laugh, echoes across the valley.
Shouting life, mocking morning.
While an irritating fly attempts a kiss on the corner of my lip.
Seeking moisture and sweetness,
as it whispers in my ear,
"Pssst, the day, it’s going to be a hot one”
The wind tries to awake, huffs and puffs,
huffs and puffs again.
Breathing on the dusty ground,
seeking momentum before expiring.
Wagging its tail, its last breath touches the tips of the tall eucalypts,
before scuttling over the hill.
A whistle awakes my reverence,
My soot blackened kettle calls out.
Tea bag in hand.
An early morning cuppa for a sentimental fool.
What can be better than that ….