i love you at a distance standing bold sky-lit and old spine's curve and bend crest's rugged end, gnarly yet svelte your arched feet. a bushel of clouds plucked down tucked in eiderdown or whisper thin floating away hidden clefts, slow thefts deep breaths the mountain of you without you it's wandering blue my eyes … Continue reading Mountain Love Song
We drive here leading our wake - a billowing procession of brassy dust - to where the ground is ravaged and the hapless skeletons of broken trees lie in sombre rows - such open carnage. A murder of crows rise at least two hundred strong all tips - wings, beaks & claws It's Poseidon's shadow … Continue reading The Crows
I don't often do this but this blog is going to be something of a journal entry. Yesterday afternoon we left our home and drove for a few hours to my parents' place to celebrate Christmas with my family (postponed a week due to COVID19 related complications). While away, we had arranged for my father … Continue reading Ark. Ark. Aaaaaaark.
The orchestra's voices join - flute and tuba speak. A world where all are valued.
"You've got gall," said the bat to the ball, "slamming around like you don't care at all." "You think it's my call? To be thrown at a wall? You're nuts" retorted our friend, the ball. "I bump and I fall with no cushioning at all I'm just unloved." and he began to bawl "Oh stop … Continue reading The Other Cricketers
The caller from Telstra rings. Well, she says she's from Telstra but every time it's the same story: "There's a problem with your internet connection". This particular caller keeps saying "Madam" because our surname is pretty hard. "Madam" sounds abrupt and I find it jangles me. I let my anger ring down the line to … Continue reading Unsolicited Calls
An itinerary is the path of bricks on which we hope to tread we lay our plans in naivety of what might happen instead. Everything is sold on hope - a wish, a solution, a cure - but the future's own itinerary's the only one that's secure.
last night those uneven thunder trembles declared war - the outpouring of tiny hatchets this morning we found fallen stars like splashed pinwheels on the damp concrete their poison heart stopping and arrhythmic. some great power in swift stroke beheaded them.
An outback station - leather-coloured hills wigged over with scrub and bush where in summer just above the ground vision wavers - that violent collision of the sun's power faced with its own reflection. Far-seeing eyes look to the sky finding relief in colours blue or weather's break or just the pretty pattern of some … Continue reading A Story
A show-jumper was feeling quite plucky and tried a dryish creek bed so mucky. The mud it was sticky and the somersault tricky but the soft landing in cow pat was lucky. Image from Pexel's free photos
