by Marian J. Darling

An Australian warrior carved
his missile of wood, curving
and light, hard enough
to shatter bone.
On its way through the air
the flawed weapon
traced a giant arc
back to the maker's hand
weapon no longer.

On this windless afternoon
another demi-god sorts through the pile
of boomerangs he carries everywhere,
flings one ebony model high
over the village green.
The watchers shout to see it
soar like a falcon
back to the master's glove.
Now over and over they try the skill
even the children, tossing
and running and falling.

It is late when the maker holds
his rainbow pinwheel to the light,
fashioned of six heavy blades
surely this one will not lift
over the crowd?

One arm-toss
and the giant spins high
through the blue tent of air
a feather a star all but invisible
against the fading sun
it circles and returns
in peace..

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Changes last made on: October 28, 2005