MEMORIES OF THE AFRICAN BUSH

memories of the african bush

Spine pad,

Folding chair,

Lockable tin bath,

Camp beds in a white net's clasp,

Way yonder, a cricket's rasp,

Insects mobbing a hissing lamp,

Whisky and soda in a ring of damp,

Lounging in a trickling heat's tease,

Feeling the murmur of a coming breeze,

Lightening flashes etching the bush,

From the swamp a sudden hush,

As the croaking frogs stop

And listen to what?

A raindrop's splat?

You can keep your concrete jungle.

asmd