From My Window

I     Simple beauty meets the eye…

a still, but ever-changing landscape

shades and shadows shifting

with the sun.

 

Morning fog obscures detail

across the valley.

 

Mist rises from dam

nestled amid rolling green

fodder for cows that wander there

a few times each week.

 

An orb of earth-sodden roots

of a fallen tree       on distant hillside

blends in       until

reflection takes it

through the spectrum

of yellows and gold

to burnt orange.

 

Night draws the shutters

and bathes the hills

in moonlight.

 

 

II    Closer in       by day

galahs       parrots       peewees

forage for worms and seeds    

in freshly cut grass

and magpies       drift

around the yard.

 

Their baby visits me     

perches on the clothes line

and       sings his hallowed tune.

 

I talk to him       from my window.

 

…Sometimes…

he brings his mother

to sit beside him

and check me out.

 

 

III   In the evenings

small brown frogs

graze on white moths

that flutter       against the glass

drawn by the light.

 

They wait patiently

for their prey

grey bellies and suction toes

visible from inside.

 

Freddie and Freida

we call them…

Soon a third appears

a baby

Freddo or Francine

we joke.

 

We leave the light

on for them      until

bedtime       so they

can have their fill

but

they are gone

in the stillness of the morning

when

simple beauty       once more

meets the eye.

 

 c. Kathryn Coughran  April 2016

 

First published: December 2016 in The Triangle

… Scriggler Publication of the Day – 22nd March 2017 …