the problem of feeling ordinary

the wind hustles in
a mood for dancing
                 leaves perform an etude
            quiet but technical

      I ask,"have you been practising?"

scrap of bark 
   in sickled flight
      enjoys one moment as a lark’s wing
before resuming flappishness
        the tickle of the grass on its scratched brown face

Once in a while
the bogong moth
winds up like a mechanical toy
insisting at the fly-wire

the short sharp crumple
of want 

12 thoughts on “the problem of feeling ordinary

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