Poem Category: Australian

August nights
the pond’s mist in
the hiccups of frogs

garden shed
from my drawer of bulbs
which tulips will answer earth

morning bird calls
and, the child listening
stirred his heart in mine

woollen gloves
she brings snow flakes home
on her long-black-hair

our dogs bring scents
of their morning run
seaweed beach

new curtains
out to their necks
in spring breezes

neighbour
his age past worried
with gardening

saying nothing
of the sunset fire
until it finally dies

in the breath of trees
a dawn’s orange glow
becoming blue

dirty underfoot
the puddle
mirrors some roses