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.

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