of summer we spoke,
a crack appeared on the wall
that spread like a fire up the ceiling
where the plaster had started to fall

And the leaves bashed against their own trunk
flaying bark like a used convicts spine
then flew off to the lake in the paddock
held upwards by taut yabby lines

And the fish of the lake turned to hunger
as they tore at their spinifex flesh
soaking mud back into the water
ripping gills, spitting blood through their necks

Crying hope for the past that has ended
hope for the future now passed
hope for the present comes later
as we farewell it all at long last

Now the lake it lies frozen in summer
taunting mires that warm under the rain
and the tree that once flourished with promise

will crack open
and shake out its brain

(Chaotic summer)