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Patagonia
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Of all the sheep musters on the steppe,
The herder counts one lost on the steppe.
Paso de los Indios my left feet,
Stumbling over shadows on the steppe.
The game is up now the game is gone,
A lone pedestrian on the steppe.
The ebb and flow of conquest stilled,
A terrible beauty on the steppe.
My skin is a thin protection,
For this wayward nomad on the steppe.
Chubut or not Chubut – Shakes spear,
Now a ghostly footnote on the steppe.
The moon turns a deaf ear to wishes,
Aloof and small shines on the steppe.
©Copyright Fergus Carty 2021
Dear Gion
What is the meaning of the title of this poem?
Again bit confusing .
Best wishes
Kusum
Kusum,
this is largely plays on words, literary allusions and references to the history of the region but also again to the moon in culture,
Fergus
Just read this poem again.
I must do a piece on it for the forum. Fergus