From "The Hooded Camp"
published 1976
by Roland Robinson
From "The Hooded Camp"
published 1976
by Roland Robinson

The Blue Gum Forest

The Cricket

Why do I stand here, stare about me?
Thirty years are gone since last
I clung, clambered, crashed down sheer
gorges' walls, found this forest.
Surely not merely in memory have I
come here. The blue gums soar, naked
smooth, to where they over arch and,
lost in height, mingle in myriad tongues.
How have I got here? Why do I stand?
long looking, long desiring, a fallen
trunk, lichened, mossed, host to ochre
red fungi, falling into mould at my feet?
I sink in pungent mould. Blue-grey
the pipes soar to their arches that lull,
linger, leave off, then swell, hail,
all hail in hosannas, in hosannas.
Pure, pure sustained, loud as any bird,
the cricket sings in the night, from under
ground, in trills, in tremulous, shaken out
shrill rounds, I've heard a bird wake
in the dark, alone, and sing as though
to reassure itself. But the cricket, he's
the assured singer of the underground.
 
Right now he's singing in quicksilver rounds,
as the dancer from the Etruscan tombs
on my wall: a young, sun brown man, a blue
drapery, gold embroidered, over his shoulders,
his naked body, dances to shrill pipes,
past bare branches, budding twigs that shall
break, burst into flames of leaves, flowers.
 
The Etruscans feasted in their underworld,
sure, pure, as the cricket sings, rings
from under the stone step outside my door.