Strange Days – 29/6/18

                     “These are strange
                                          said the otter to the whale, “and                                                                                            I’m not sure how I feel.”
                                                                  But the whale just sank out of sight
                                                                  into the navy blue sea.


                                                       “These are strange days” sang the kurrajong
                                                  “because here it is summer
                                                        and still I’m not gone.”
“Strange days.”
Sitting under a pinpricked sky
“Strange days.”


                                                                            As the birds fly as usual,
                                       never noticing that the bark on the trees has turned from brown
                                                                 to silver.


 Having been AWOL for a while, here’s a fitting poem to return upon. What have I missed since I’ve been gone? Who have written amazing poems that I should catch up on?