Poem Category: Miscellaneous

Footpath coffees
our sponge cakes coming
past a rubbish bin.

Low tide
exposing the underarm odour
of the sea.

New teacher
this year how my violin
has sweetened.

White frost
remaining below
the speckled mushrooms.

Jealous quarrel
a bruised apple turned
in the fruit bowl.

Temple ruins
a wind crossing the stones
with whistles.

Mouse in the corn
some scarecrow shade
under the old girl’s dress.

Bag-woman asleep
the bus stop crowd
standing guard.

Midnight swim
our hands wiping moonshine
from each other’s face.

Slide me whole to waves
no hillside grave with dank soils
creeping down to sea.