Mid-morning clouds marking a blue chasm -
long collage of merino liltings -
distracted Demeter trailing her unbound hair?
Palette-knife parallels widely sliced -
what count is this, what toll notched up?
Tawny paddocks turned cow-pat brown,
tussock-full,
black Angus grazing out
the sumpy lush of emptied dam.
By noon the crowds of cumulus
make jigsaw-puzzle pieces of the blue
passing through -
a northwest slide.
What does it mean in sailor-suits?*
It means more sun and little rain again;
more fires to struggle with across the state.
Horizons crowded with white clouds
smoky-slate clouds, orange clouds
incredulity would take simply
for painterly imagination.
Dead orange leaves,
wafer-whisperers
dead black leaves,
necromancies dragged, stop-frame
among Pangloss merriment,
clustered festooneries of gum,
a cheerleader wind
rah-rah pom-poms.
...........................
A UK saying (as granny to young child) is the sun will prevail if there is enough in the patches of blue to make a sailor-suit.
