Grevillea in shock

New growth
HACKED back.
Flowers gone.
So too the native bees, lizards and birds.

A brutal pruning,
outside my window.
Perhaps a neat and tamed form to some,
But I dream
of the wispy new
luscious green branches and leaves.

This is where the grey goshawk had perched,
calculating so carefully.
Could it take the sand monitor below?

I stare outside this window
most days.
Feel the essence of these plants,
my companions.

May new shoots
be born from rising humidity,
new growth sprout in UNRULY form.
Be wild.

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Filed under Poetry

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