PRAISE SONG FOR MAREENA

before I left that wild land,
before I left,
I never promised I will sing a song
about the harvest on its craggy hills
talk of walks in its fruitless bushes
mention years along its wrinkled ridges
or dream of times along its swirling river
I never promised I will sing her a praise song

my song for you Mareena
is tossed about in cheeky echoes
like one dirty from muddy tracks
bleating on windy afternoons

I remember the haunted evenings
the falling stars in the dark forests,

sometimes the hoot of owls
the lonely bird’s calls
the frogs and the raggy tunes they sing
in the dark dying night

I should have listened to these sighing in my ears
but, your hushing to make me sleep,
bedded down the smoky haze
and the blinding lights sank me down
and I faded
in the dusky purpling sky
like the son of the brave
running away from death at war times