fire

for David Gilbey

fire-engine flash of fox pelt

and a plume of tail

fluffy ... like some oil-well ablaze on a Gulf War postcard

and from the body

it was fleeing at a 2 o’clock incline

almost innocent in the ebb of dawn

above the vineyards at Booranga

sauntering erratically

as a red beacon

across the screen of a life-support monitor

up and down and away

this alien enigma upon Wiradjuri skin