Good Friday


musked eyeballs -
the cadence
of a poor night's sleep

I shower, 
relieved to see
night unbending,
the hot rush of pink
across my skin 
and the way 
the water tickles my ears

A heroic sun 
finds footing 
between black-busted hills
to be picked through
by bare-armed trees
and a caveat of clouds 
in fine print

Kookaburras in 
chaotic chortle
combat currawongs'
whistle and peep


light thrums allegro, 
vibrato cicadas
and children squat, 
concocting glutinous mud,
the shlurp of it

cold boiled eggs
mashed to fluff

my heavy eyelids
still, the rooster crows


Kombucha on the verandah,
with the snick and growl
of dogs at play

the smoke from
a sausage fire
milkily dissipates

but not the mozzies

6 thoughts on “Good Friday

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