Wild Ephemera

by John Low

From the book:

SMALL THINGS

There's a time
when the remains of the day
cling to the sky like lichen

and currawongs sing,
ringing the cold air

before the light dissolves
in a silent torrent of blackness

consuming the hills and valleys
and all the wild ephemera of the world.

….

Swept in the currents
of half-light and shadow,

lantern eyes flickering,
their songs, sung for small things,

define the space
between ridge line

and sky.

32 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2005