Poem Category: Australian

and before breath, dead
the ewe bleats for her un-young,
then returns to graze

under the window
my rose the storms have yearned for
fights with a strong heart

to start the picnic
the sun a boat we row in
your wind full blouse… loose

geese returning
I tune the gut strings
of my old folk guitar.

the sculptor’s nude
his model helping him
polish her.

hammering hail
the last page of our exams
Yes or No answers.

the peeled orange rings
under our hammock
‘ midday shade.

the party waits
a saxophone cradles
in the new year.

stone well
the bucket on the ledge
spills in the rain.

raspberry
my tongue more in memory
than this sweet delight.