Poetry | Stories | Photography
remnants of plunger coffee
the washing and dryer blues
empty pegs on the clothesline
the moments of reflection
a longing for the rain clouds
this land cries out in the drought
burnt by the sun in winter
a fleeting glimpse of freedom
the sun makes way for the frost
red dirt on the shed
scorching heat turns to thunder
a heavy rain rinse
I work from home alone.
I raise my eyes to the window,
and
look out towards the hills, cows.
Magpies snap up worms from our lawn.
At lunch, I stand in thongs and a coat,
watching everything between heaven and Earth.
The wind wails of Winter, yet it is Summer.
We bake in our car
as we drive to Far North Queensland.
The changing landscape
seems to move and breathe with us.
An Illawarra Flame Tree
reminds us of an Australian song.
We stop for a while
to feel the way the wind moves
and
to see the Flame Tree burning.
Susurrous sounds of longing
move through this ancient landscape
and
we take a photograph to remember.
sunkissed dirty brown-red earth by day,
starlit luminous enchanted land by night.
casual bushes, trees, and plants bustle,
as the nightlife of the land, comes alive.
ripe creamy yellow fruits lure wombats,
possums, echidnas, and bilbies to nibble.
sweet passionberry bushes jiggle and
bounce as the animals’ stuff themselves.
Thoughts of snow,
reprieve from the heat.
Chickens live next door,
often disguised as roosters.
Flies buzz determined;
evil beasts want tasty food.
A beast enters by magic,
the instant recognition of the fly swat.
Angry as a beast lands,
you wildly spank the chair.
Echoes of this land
blood, bone and broken dreaming
A song we know plays
Some prayed for rain; others danced, many gave up hope as the dams dried up.
An old man sat looking at them, shook his head, and thought of all those times he scolded the rain.
What he’d give for drop now, yet then he hated how the rain always ruined his plans.
Sitting naked,
boobs fall on sticky skin.
Sipping on tea,
butt cheeks feel warm.
Spa foot bath,
tingling all the way up.
Serenity music,
opium incense cloudy.
So tranquil,
feeling fat and flabby.
I wrote this one yesterday.
We have experienced Winter in Spring.
It’s lovely, as the rain is everywhere at the moment, yet the thought of Summer makes me wish for more rain and cold weather.
A rain cloud kind of wild day
Petrichor blew away by the wind
The wild rain calling outside
Placing my empty porcelain cup
The inside smells cannot win
Walking outside to feel the wild rain
C & K 