Like skeletons on their way home,
Waving their hands in the air,
The trees at dusk look alive
And I wonder what secrets they’d share.

What troubles disturbed their peace?
What have they witnessed this day?
What birds graced their branches,
What kangaroos passed this way?

Soon they will fade into night,
Another day will be done.
And the bush will sleep until morning
And the blazing of the sun.

Dusk in the bush. Photo by Ginette Pestana