The cool of the night is still in the air,
For the full sunrise is not quite there.
The African winter is intensely dry,
Not a single cloud will darken the sky.
In this colourless light just before the sun,
A gray ghost like Gnu down river does come.
Trudging along with it's head hung low,
To a water point it will slowly go.
A slight westerly breeze carries the dust,
Caused by the hooves as they forward thrust.
Adding splendor to the ghostly scene,
No sound where he's going or where he's been.
He is getting smaller moving further away,
Suddenly it's the brightness at the break of day.
The sun breaks the crest fills the world with colour,
A choir of sound from birds insects and other.
The change is alarming from first light into day,
It creeps up so slowly and then it's away.
But the memory is held deep in my chest,
As the birds busily go building their nest.
Written by P. Barlow. 26/03/2001
Email : Pete Barlow