February by Zora Cross

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A red, dull, purple haze that lingers still
   Proclaims the way the fierce December went
   In sudden wrath, with awesome flames bespent,
As if on blood some savage gorged his fill.
Lean January, like a vuture shrill,
   Soared o'er the waste on evil missions bent,
   And, at the dried creek, flapped her wings and sent
A shower of sullen sparks across the hill.

Now, dazed, we watch the skies and almost pray,
   We are so sick of fiery red and black.
Brown desolation stares from every side,
And there is not one day one does not say,
   "Come, February, take the bridle track,
And through the land your wild, wet horses ride!"

First published in The Bulletin, 1 February 1923

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of BiographyOld Qld Poetry

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on February 1, 2012 7:00 AM.

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