Brumby Tracks

The terrible bushfires of 2019/2020 took a terrible toll on our wild Brumby Horses – for them I wrote this …

Brumby Tracks

There are brumby tracks just winding ‘cross the Kosciusko plains
all around them are the wildflowers that have flowered since the rains
bought them sustenance and moisture – as they emerged from the snow
to open their precious petals – pink and yellow, white and mauve

Up the green slopes the tracks wander – meandering  ‘mongst the gums
Here the land is pristine, perfect – ideally suited to Brums.
There is shelter, there is water, here young foals can safely play
guarded over by the stallion who is never far away.

We are in God’s own cathedral here – its steep turrets invite
us to look heavenward to the blue sky in which we can delight
and its buttresses of granite are a sight to inspire awe
All may worship, all are welcome if they observe Nature’s law.

There are crystal clear creeks trickling across these verdant plains
and the water’s fresh and beautiful after the summer rains
Small corroboree frogs live here too  –  they love the sphagnum bogs
which are the perfect habitat for these gaily striped frogs.

A bluetongue and a dragonfly both share the water’s edge,
there’s brown trout swimming in that creek, and birds nest in the sedge.
Tussocks of green are clustered thick right to the stony ridge
and small birds feast upon the wing on irritating midge.

Wild mushrooms flourish in the dung- Ladybirds feast on green,
the  open plains of wildflower  make  the prettiest of scenes
Soft morning mists wrap gauzy shawls of moisture round the land
beneath the snow gums, sheltering, a motley brumby band.

There is danger – as there always is when running in the wild,
there’s the detritus of man – who these vast expanses defiled.
there are slithering sleek serpents, who will give a deadly bite
should a brumby foal get cheeky – and their anger then invite.

The fires that ripped through these hills they took a heavy toll,
so many animals were lost – names struck off from the roll
Their bones a stark reminder of the harshness of this land,
but softened now by wildflowers strewn by Mother Nature’s hand.

A dingo crouching in the grass enjoying the sun’s rays
and warming up – just watches with an unwavering gaze
A gray mare  catching movement, turns her head to check her space,
then goes back to her grazing quite unworried by his face.

A black foal lies contented  midst the softest purple haze
of the wildflowers, safe and happy, reassured by  mother’s gaze,
where  the brumby tracks are winding ‘cross the Kosciusko plains
‘midst the scattered blooms of wildflowers that have flowered since the rains.

Maureen Clifford ©  The #ScribblyBarkPoet