Ross Donlon’s ‘Lookout’

from The Bread Horse

Morning
looks in as you look up
over the edge and out

Ferny tree tops
offer fronds
soft enough to land on

Just the floating fence
and your limb’s tingle
stops you taking

one last glass
of champagne air
and swimming

through filmy currents
cascading leaves
and cobweb mist

Water falling
is the only sound
of breathing

A matchbox cable car
slides up       one slips
out of sight

A black cockatoo
glides into cloud
speck of ash on white

Tourists shout to a mirror of sound
looking for themselves
a moment past

A small boy sees
something nameless
invade his universe

His young parents
suddenly hug against the fence
and their son says, It’s near Dad, isn’t it?