Poem Category: Australian

The long travelled geese
no reasons now
to endure cold.

Freight train
whistling
its reason to sound so alone.

In moonlight
the measure by a pebble
down the stone well.

Too frail to sit on …
still holding its shape
the rotten sugar-gum.

Creeping under tin roofs
rust
of the sea fogs.

Road kill
the blackness of crows
tasting a crow.

Neighbours not home …
all midnight hears of it
their black dog’s howl.

Tip-toeing
to the red rose bush …
the tot’s wet sneeze.

Winter ends
under the walk bridge
a bubbling river.

Winter frost
limp with the river
little bags of kittens.