Poem Category: Australian

First dew …
not far from home
picking field mushrooms.

Garden helper
all the pain of the bruise
kissed away by mum.

Every Wednesday
the priest brushing
the nun’s confession.

Wedge-tail eagle
following the last hour
of sunset.

Beyond the camp-fire
stars pricking
the dark.

Lime-stone caves
chilled by the drips
from an ancient river.

Still alive
on the bull ant nest
the scorpion’s sting.

Sunset
following the geese
on an ancient journey.

Tracks
of their roped driftwood
between the boys.

Home alone
spreading in father’s shed
the spilled red paint.