Stubbornly Summer
But on the way back from swimming,
despite that noon storm,
it's surely full summer -
though Celsius gangles in
leggy, goose-pimpled teens.
Flocks of Ibis, black and white,
extending their shallow hooks of beaks,
slice
open present,
reveal its antiquity, Thoth*;
and the insouciant bravado of an aerobatic swift
tilting sickle wing from Nissan bonnet,
saves me one more encounter with Death
in the courts of hit-and-run.
(Smears on the windscreen
are cabbage-white tragedies.)
Sunlight works deep 3D into gum trees:
theatrical illumination
complements rough blusters'
coo-ee agitation;
and rushes in the road dip,
unflooded for three years, light-whetted,
flicker sprightly as they rustle wicked.
Up looms another bruiser black cloud
but sun one-punches through.
..............................
*Thoth was the Ibis-headed god, son of Horus, falcon-headed god, son of Osiris, He was, among his other responsibilities, the god of writing. In Australia Ibis are, less salubriously, also 'bin chooks' from their scavenging habits, adapting to urban life – hence 'slice open'.
Re Celsius image - It was only 15 in Sale when I wrote this yesterday afternoon, contrasting 25 today.
