Gangurru

In the violet hour
              the satchel filled with post is keen to be delivered
Others play at being waiters and waitresses
              taking my order
                          before the violet hour

Boys and girls stirring berries rose petals and sand
             to a nourishing potage
                      I pretend to relish
                                  at the violet hour
The apartment full of witches and spidermen
                 for a while credulous
                             of superpowers
                                       beyond what a parent has
                             of wisdom or persuasion
                  in the face of the violet hour

Grinning role-play of post boy and delivery girl
              on Christmas morning
                           the gifts laid at the feet
                                       of grandma and grandpa
           now dead and passed beyond the violet hour

Delving with beach spades in the back garden
             with no thought of the parched Outback
                      where flyers skip
                                their pockets of feeble young
               sucking at the violet hour

Where eucalyptus trees flay themselves alive
             beyond terracotta rock

Gangurru

                         the blurred flock of turquoise birds
                                      fleeing the violet hour
He will grow with years into the over-size cap
                 she’ll order and turn to mock the waitress
the post in the satchel lies folded and undelivered

As the violet hour passes
               city planners design a park
                               bifurcated by a linear avenue
on a nearby rooftop a creature – a gangurru
               a beast named mee-nuah something to nourish
                           when brought down before the violet hour