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: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Old Qld Poetry
See also.
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: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Old Qld Poetry
See also.
