Poem Category: Australian

winter trees
their veins in the moonlight
connected

in fog
the Mosque’s last call to prayer
along our street

being alone
with the fog
our car on the bridge

sitting up straight
the tuck-in sounds
at grandma’s lunch

late sunset
a tiger moth brushes
my face in the shadows

being late
on the crunch of our gravel
a visitor calling

ebb tide
the life the gulls take in
from the rock pools

solitaire
a pane of moonlight
plays on my cards

across temple grounds
the lawns pecked
around us

driftwood beach
mainly gulls mainly
in the curves of the sea