Nightfall

 

  

Nightfall

 

thin white sheets cover me

a naked leg dangling over the side of the bed

capturing the cool breeze

from the fan, a moving shadow on the ceiling

chasing the heavy heat of the fading day

 

silence breaks

a magpie goose scratching in the bog

calling to her chicks

a branch cracks

bending to the shape of the wind

screeching cockatoos

the last of the flock flying home

 

I wait for the next tweet

wishing I could see their calls as a word

Nature has its own language

I sleep to the sound of its song

 

Bernadette Dickenson

 

I live on the Surfcoast of Victoria in Australia and am a member of a U3A poetry group in our Community House   I have always loved the word and now in my retirement am enjoying writing more poems and submitting them.