ON KAKADU

On Kakadu
(Australia)

The floodplain, green, green, at peace,
as far as the eye can see.
But when Namarrgon strikes his axes
inside the clouds, the rain will come.

Among the watercress and pink lilies,
beneath the paperbarks and naughty trees,
where the pandanus spike
and the Jesus bird walks on water,
that ginga doesn’t move.

He’s been waiting there two days.
When the buffalo comes to drink
at five o’clock, those jaws will drag it
down into red water. Crocodile tucker!

There’s another ginga — a female.
Hasn’t she seen the jabiru bird?
Its black beak can crack a croc’s head
like an egg.

Sunset. Ripples in the creeks.
Mosquitoes dance to the full moon.
And the floodplain sleeps

1. Namarrgon: the lightning man; he has stone axes attached to his head, elbows and knees to make thunder.
2. Naughty trees: Mangroves harbor insects that cause skin irritation; that’s why mums and aunties send naughty aboriginal children to play in them.
3. Ginga: a crocodile.
4. Tucker: slang for food

Beach storm

I watch — captive —

as the storm rolls in

across the bay,

and the sea sucks

light from the sky.

The world ends at

the lashing rain,

nothing exists beyond

the punctured waves,

the sand heaves beneath

every lightning strike,

and old palms surrender

their branches.

And after the rage —

the calm,

deep and majestic,

and the world holds

its breath.

On an English beach

The heat bleeds into the sand,

feeding into lost bones

within the crystals.

Man, who slaughtered you here

in some forgotten invasion?

The Romans, was it?

The Vikings, then?

I will stretch my towel

across your remains,

and read my book,

and together we shall sleep

beneath the sun.

James Aitchison is an Australian author and poet. His work has appeared in the Adelaide Literary Magazine, the Australian Poetry Anthology, Quadrant, Aesthetica, Poetry for Mental Health, Literary Yard, Poppy Road Review, and many others.