~ Kathy Earsman ~



Click or scroll for Kathy's poems:

Luther, Flying Fox, Foster Child

In the Nature of Things

Seeing Things

Brisbane at Nightfall



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Luther, Flying Fox,
Foster Child


He tumbled out of night as black as he;
his family to mine. His mother cried
and flew away, a shadow ebony
against the moon. He'd snuggle safe inside
his water-bottle bed where, warm and fed,
he'd sleep enfolded, sucking on his wrap,
a baby upside down. Inside his head
he had a map: he'd swim the floor, or flap
around the house to find us. He would cling
so close, click-purring, swinging rhythmically,
and later, when we'd walk in night, he'd wing
from trees to me. Of course, we set him free,
but now, when black-on-black folk, all the same,
percuss the night with wings, I call his name.



© Copyright 2001 Kathy Earsman
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For a photo of a flying fox Click here







In The Nature of Things

This morning's rosy dawn has warmed the sand,
a sea-bird holds the air; its feathers blush
with sky. Cool tones fold into warmth, it lands
where lilac ripples underlie the rush
of gentle surges on the shore. The tide
is out. The beach is hushed, a little boat
lies nodding, bobbing, sleeping on its side.
A filigree of lacy bubbles float
a moment, then are gone. The sea-bird strikes
down viciously -- it knows where molluscs live:
their tiny breaths betray them. Now he spikes
them in his bill. He takes what nature gives.
I gasp for tender things I'll never tell --
in silence, secrets live inside my shell.



© Copyright 2002 Kathy Earsman


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Seeing Things


At dawn, when sunshine spills across the grass,
my eye is drawn to fuzzy globes of light
that float and flit on gauzy wings. They pass
down low to skim the dandelions, their flight
controlled, describing angles as they go
criss-crossing rapidly without a pause
which makes it hard to see them clearly, though
here's one that hovers near, defying laws
of physics... Oh. It's just a dragonfly.
A pity, for I thought I'd seen the dance
of sylvan sprites. Ah, Mother Nature's sly:
for where there's prey there'll always be a chance,
and here's a tic-tac-toe of silver webs
to catch the morning fairies by the legs.



© Copyright 2002 Kathy Earsman


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Brisbane at Nightfall


As dusk approaches, gulls have gathered here
behind a fishing boat, their bodies white
and shining as they glide before the sheer
metallic-coloured river banks. Tonight
they'll rest upon the quiet waters, drift
in silence like the Lady of Shallot.
The city holds its breath. Now there's a shift
of light: the sky is palest apricot...
and there against the backdrop of the sky
the flying foxes lift upon the air.
The pulsing of their wings as they go by
has quickened every heart-beat. Everywhere
above us sooty shapes whirl ever higher,
like bits of blackened paper from a fire.



© Copyright 2002 Kathy Earsman


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Brisbane photo courtesy Australian Tourist Commission




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