I recently
worked for a week in Darwin, a city situated in Australia’s Northern Territory.
Located in the nation’s tropical north, the city was under the influence of the annual dry season. ‘You reach a point when you’ve had enough of the dust and everything
turning to brown,’ someone told me as we drove out of the city, one morning.
Interestingly, a major focus of my work during that week with
teachers and students, focused on poetry.
So, while
staying in Darwin, the following poem emerged in my notebook. As poets, we are
strongly influenced by place or setting. This is poetry of place. The words are
influenced by my experiences and the comments of those I met during my stay.
Big Dry
I stand
under the eaves
Seeking
salvation from the unrelenting sun.
Disturbed by
the hot wind
Leaves
with
hues of dry straw, swirl at my feet
Sounding faintly
scratchy,
Brittle.
Dust
scatters in puffs
Rising
Settling
On every available
surface.
An eagle
hovers,
Between the
baked-earth land
And the
blazing sun
Supreme against
the cloudless sky.
Far off,
The horizon
dances the shimmer
While an
old brown dog
Lazes inside
the shadow line beside the house.
Moisture is
a stranger
In this
bone dry world.
No dewdrops
reside here.
The dry
season
Parches everything,
Everyone.
This pitiless
season
Sheds no
tears.
That final stanza is very powerful! You really made me feel how parched it is.
ReplyDeleteI lived in Sydney for about seven years, but we never traveled as far as Darwin. I especially like you third stanza... the lazy dog says it all with no words at all.
ReplyDeleteHow beautiful. We experienced a terrible drought in my city last summer, and I remember that weariness, ground down by the constant sun and heat and dust. Beautifully captured.
ReplyDeletePowerful imagery, I can see the dog panting.
ReplyDelete