Written 24th August, 2026 for Epiphany Poetry Contest sponsored by Constance La France
The ironbark stands rigid in the heat,
shedding strips of gray to dry red earth.
For hours, the cicada hum is absolute,
a wall of sound that blurs the horizon,
then, the hot wind drops.
Smoke from a distant ridge dissipates,
and the canopy splinters the harsh sun
into a thousand sudden, golden prisms.
In that quiet fracture of the afternoon,
the answer settles over the sandstone.
It is not a shout, but the shedding of weight.
It is the ghost gum stepping out of its old skin,
revealing the pale, unblemished wood beneath,
breathing in the newly altered light.
Wild, fierce inferno claims the ancient scrub,
Gossamer smoke hides the canopy,
Burning heat sweeps across the earth,
Blackened vault cracks in the blaze,
Red, hissing sparks ignite,
Blistered ironbark,
Forest of grey,
Scorched timber,
Silence,
Ash.
Rain.
Seeds burst,
Water pools,
Fresh leaves stretch out,
Wattle starts to bloom,
Susurrous bush awakes,
Fragrant petrichor ascends,
Harbinger of a vibrant spring,
Paperbarks becoming bathed in gold,
Effervescent rains wash the eucalypt.
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