Poem Category: Australian

lost apples
the scent of their ciders
fermenting the earth

in the wind
plastics making a dump
of autumn leaves

after the divorce
— my old dog wagging
needs a belly rub

a frog leaps
before the sound
the light of the water. Re:Basho’

her songs–
I don’t know from the bird
all her generations

sunrise
in a dream
I keep open

the grunts
my wood chopping bounced
from the tin shed

screeching …
the way thermals
raise an eagle

in the river
I don’t trust
how fast

just visible
the breaths of Laurel
from the movie…home