A night in Normanton

Dogs bark, guitars whine,
a whisky-inspired shout,
punctuates the footsteps
beyond a bristly fence.

The past bristles also
the ‘Dog House’ now defunct,
what human deprivation
were trackers forced witness?

‘It’s too late’, Hank Jnr sings,
tonight red dust alights
on both the just and unjust
will a new dawn break?

Moon-bathed Ancient Land,
cools my darkened night,
I lay aside my lament
and rest in Her grace.

guitar-fence

photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/apclicks/5948849733/