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Ironbark Sunset Summer's gone without a trace The shock of April showing, Icy winds against a face, Racing, ever flowing. A tapping sound of homeward feet In autumn colours fading, Beneath the towering city street And filtered sunset shading. Below a blackened ironbark From empty pavement growing, Crimson flowers make a mark Like daylight's curtain glowing. Fallen colour on concrete In windblown patches weeping, Borne in days of melted heat, From summer's passion sleeping. A hand across the blackest bark With hopeful wishes beaming, A glance toward the stirring dark; A moment's crimson dreaming. |