Poem Category: Miscellaneous

After snow
our crushed-brick paths
treading quietly.

Back from school
me following me into
our shabby house.

Lunch
the ring around mother’s kitchen
a family circle.

The fig tree is
a tethered brumby
the storm gathers.

Peach orchard
picking the ravages of the hail
that taste as sweet.

Broken sleep
the mosquito whines
one cheek not the other.

library book
the curl of pressed black hair
uncurls.

The cricket chirps–
trapped in the curtains
another breeze.

Sensing winter
the flame trees also
litter the paths around them.