Ludwig Leichart
Ludwig Leichart
This perplexing country,
(such an under statement),
where rivers run upside down,
marbles are strewn by the Devil
and Songlines
etched in memory are
sung by those few who know.
Seeking Victoria,
the blazed trees could not help,
the Prussian collapsed, looking at the blue.
Initialled stunted trees showed the way,
signposts to oblivion,
while the heat,
always the heat,
in a furnace of shadeless infinity
dessicates his body.
What use the blaze?
He cannot walk or crawl,
only a palanquin borne by flies,
Oh the flies,
will carry him there
until their wings melt.
He came from the south
humming tunes from a Baroque choir
to reach the Arafura sea,
where Cornish stone -masons build chimneys
to ward of the chill (sarcastic laugh).
and a Tamarind tree guards the entrance.
The red coated soldiers have left
And he, Ludwig had vanished.
A fanfare blasts, .
Is that an angel holding Brown’s hand
up there on top of a nunatak of the desert,
the quavers and semi-quavers merging
in an anthem of despair?
Copyright © Barry Sanbrook | Year Posted 2020
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