spring comes to the Gully - Poetry by Bill Hannan

spring comes to the Gully


in the city it is cold and wet
but I can dream of a place in the bush
where a time of plenty has arrived
the wattles are ending their goldrush
lilies and orchids crouch by the tracks
lizards wake up and dart away
we watch out for snakes
remembering the one I stepped over
before I saw it slide across the doorway
a kangaroo among the box and stringybark
is unconcerned about the joey
looking to jump out of her pouch
the dam is overflowing
from the year’s unseasonal rains
so the creek is running
for the first time in years
a consummation the frogs devoutly celebrate
as they watch frog-eyed
for newly arriving birds from the north
kingfishers egrets and later on woodducks
not to mention the ever-present
magpies squabbling with ravens
and kookaburras announcing the night
which has now come in my dream
so I stand in the cold evening
looking up at the wondrous glory
of The Banjo’s everlasting stars