Poem Category: Australian

out of our car
carrying the pails
of wild blackberries

picnic spot
roaming riverside
the smells of our youth

clawed with winter
grandmother knitting
her pain

a sea of moon…
the shadows
my jogging passes

whistling
at a mad wind
the weather-vane

fallen Oak
its open grave
bathed in light

shedding rose–
sprinkled on the table
moonlight through a vase

I hear the wind telling
in autumn rustles–
no leaf returns exactly

on the lake
growing into winter
a top of mountain snow

river Gum
the sound a rope swing
carries me back