I chose slip-on cloth shoes with thin plastic soles on the basis that they’d dry quickly. I didn’t bother with socks. Then I stood in the garage and heard the sky hurling water down on us, fierce and exact I saw spray cast horizontally, dashed against car windows like we were sailing and the plunging … Continue reading Storm Self
grim as fairy-tales
It’s storming paparazzi flashy herding in a night grim as fairy-tales perhaps I’ll dream of Zeus’s horsemen the drive and lash sky crumbling to dust beneath their thunder or of tiny Tinkerbell under the pear tree cowering in the wild-lit droplets between the black curls of the wrought iron garden chair the rain like tossed … Continue reading grim as fairy-tales
the storm plays timpani rain's uproarious applause damp certainty of a rose's beauty Header photo courtesy of our son (age 8) The rose photo is mine.
Camp in Finke River National Park
From where I stand, washing dishes in a rectangular plastic tub, I can see the roiling approach of buff-shouldered clouds – a bellicose sky. A shard of lightning rips a fierce line down the purple horizon and I flinch, searingly aware of my metal watch. I take off all my jewellery and put it in … Continue reading Camp in Finke River National Park