Poem Category: Australian

Old Labrador
in the middle of a dream
that I tip-toe past.

Long highway
the motel mirrors
with sounds behind.

Spring rain
then a bright yellow squeezing
out of the rose buds.

sunrise lake
in its solitude
nothing else to lean to.

finishing a coffee
the crumpled letter
unfolds before her.

as summer falls
the shrill of the cicadas
unaware of dying.

winter fog
the drip, drip of willows
to the river.

listening to crickets
their songs and their pauses
from the stone well.

old stone well
an eagle over our farmhouse
alone in the sky.

Eyes from the water
a crocodile’s gnashing
frenzied soul.