Hot night into morning
we are steamed open
mosquitoes have their team song
thunder on the placards
early beach traffic past holiday
dawdle bleary waiting home
perhaps a little rain splatter
weakly tapping time
why do doves call
New South Wales
New South Wales
the baby kookaburra barks
trying for its voice
no breeze off the flutter
a street light not there before
throws solar eminence
boil an egg buttery soldiers
barely need to spread
James Walton Poetry 