Blue grey clouds, fortresses in the sky,
portentous, impressive, billowing up high,
full of rain for the western plains
where the rivers swing out around the brown
lands beyond the towns, and on
to another river, their destination.
And the birds come down in flocks,
the ducks paddle and frogs croak;
the whole world rejoices,
kangaroo, wallaby and bird voices,
and humanity too, with all its devices.

Reg Naulty.