chandelier light
its weight outside
the mirror

last night's argument--
I go over myself
in the shaving mirror

clay bowl
should hold the water
the kiln bakes out

he brings some past
to the gramophone
Dad's vinyls

morning bird calls
and the child listening
stirred his heart in mine

sailing solo
along the horizon
he cannot see

snuggled up blankets--
the bird songs with me,
with me from first light

toe-turned steps
I say nothing else
to the dance class

whistling
at a mad wind
the weather-vane

out of our car
carrying the pails
of wild blackberries

dusk being mauve
the varicose veins
of the winter trees

cracking the mud
at the end of it
the river drought

in troughs of the moon
Laurel
swimming back

a man-made pond
the one small frog
taken in

campfire doused
the Universe's
blanket of stars

August nights
the pond's mist in
the hiccups of frogs

garden shed
from my drawer of bulbs
which tulips will answer earth

woollen gloves
she brings snow flakes home
on her long-loose-hair

our dogs bring scents
of their morning run
seaweed beach

new curtains
out to their necks
in spring breezes

saying nothing
of the sunset fire
until it finally dies

in the breath of trees
a dawn's orange glow
becoming blue

dirty underfoot
the puddle
mirrors some roses

waterwheel
the creaks of the garden
rust over rust

threading
the bars of tree roots
a river Pike

waterfall spray
Laurel's fly away hair
on my face

the dawn moves
in long shadows
my shadow

ripe boysenberries
behind the leaves
a long reach

gentle
between clouds
migrant geese

dawn opens
my split dreams
with bird songs

stars on the lake
a summer galaxy
the swans push aside

sun on my back
a reflected
puddle's rose

in a fire
apart from the future
everything is lost

in the high country
a feather worked loose
of an eagle's dive

still out of sight
the rising voice
of a waterfall

free from the earth
the butter-pan sizzles
of our mushrooms

her herbs
scenting the garden
scenting the rain

afternoon heat
the scents and foams
of the ferry's wake

backyard Oak
I whittle on a copy
for our mantelpiece

a crow's ruffle
whooshing up the quiet
behind me

our heads down
the whoosh of a crow
here and gone

old girl next door
her plastic rake broken
among the Autumn leaves

this leaning road
to a distant valley
in the breath of trees and home

counting to myself
under our sun creams--
the freckles at Laurel's nose

the pen-pal posted...
those deeper thoughts
I wanted to write

treading water
a Pike plucks bugs
from the tree shades

shaped by the river
not feeling it pass--
a trout in sunlight

origami class
shaping my thoughts
to the quietness it brings

Apple orchard
this water in morning dew
once could think as I do.

slap of the sails
a whale's eye
moves near.

with all the unrest
of leaves
butterflies

Latin rhythms
freeing my feet...
the dance class

naked Oak
one leaf unbothered
before spring

garden cactus
popping her balloon
the birthday one

beach party
Laurel
across the camp fire

sunset sinks
seedlings still answer
to earth

night drizzles
still to rise to the light
to fall again

strange dream...
still time
to dawn songs

a crescent moon
still upright
to the sea

first light
over the river stones
a canoe--- loose

crows swear in long oaths
hills rivulet the storms out
and dawn becomes light

tropic isle
I cannot know
which seeds may copy

watered
under the dog's tail
park saplings

against the wind
her kimono's
autumn leaves

summer twilight
what perfumed sprays
are the hosed roses

post box
re-reading
the pen-pal letter

midnight snack
job interview clothes
over the chair

spring showers
the whole street of bottle-brush
drips drips drips

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

one o'clock snack
in the fridge light
in the heat

falls and rustle
the backyard struggles
with autumn

frangipani street
under my nose
under my feet

a class of bonsai
I won't know
what the silence brings

phone texted
the daughter's divorce
she's bringing home

conversation ends
in
the log fire

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

coloured balloons
her birthday voices
for party friends

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

autumn leaves--
herding a cat
with a rake

drift-woods
bringing the island
to garden

her garden
still forget-me-nots
to walk through

first light
down to its horizon
in bird songs

rushing in
without a sound
spider legs

fire ash
still the past
to sift

shooting star
somewhere between
New Year and the morning

child's play
on our summer lawn
raising grasshoppers

sunrise rains
out of the dark earth
untouched mushrooms

at start of day
over river smooth stones
a canoe... freed

north summer winds
flooding my lawns
to save them

midnight bats
still the fig seeds
to scatter

sun tipped trees
still the butterfly
to move in leaves

sun tipped trees
still the snow ground
to walk home

stampede clouds
a lightning
joins the earth

backyard Maple
her bone naked autumns
of fifty years

beach dunes
the waves crash into
the sound of the gulls

last sunlight
the weeds along the paths
I left to wither

I would compose
a butterfly riding
the nose of our dog

living alone...
grandmother lets
the autumn leaves be

mountain walk
butterfly come see with me
or find another!

the moon bent river
finding the heart
to a haiku

sunset stretching ants
the wind burns so deep
road tar pulls at shoes

a sun rain-bowed crow
its long close fence caw
shatters all silence

his girl with some guy
what fierce reasons wake
that needs hate for both

biting mad road rage
suddenly erupts
from both cars in front

fallen from the tree
ripe fruits of figs split
and seeds trickle out

panicked to running
the rabbit's lungs... burn
just ahead of dogs

lancing the forest
spring sun glints a wren
and a wren mating

spider suddenly
stirs and is bounding
to the blue fly's fight

unfolding sunlight
a patch of the lake
leaps out with salmon

face touching spider
what cold fears this thing
bars the way through trees

the hips thrust, spin, meet
in Latin rhythms
her dance floor Rumba

burning the future...
I search the house bones
nothing else to own

bewildered by smoke
he wakes with a yell
to red crackling breaths

lightning thumps and strikes
I don't know what plans
makes This tree explode

his green eyed monster
hid and went stalking
till they drive home late

reading haiku
beside them
a perfectly small bug

the sun
in a mirror
returning the light

from the bone winter trees
the caw of a crow
departing

shattered near his leg
under a car tyre
the old man's cane stick

blue with desert pools
the drought dry thin stock
he shoots through their eyes

while the stars birthday
with just flesh and bone
my mind's their matter

honey trickled toasts
her taxi's good bye
charges the kitchen

mad December night
denting car yard hail
to start the week's sales

grandma's lunch
her pain knuckled hands
setting the table

between the trees
a tiger moth
climbs the sunbeam

the garden gate
closes after me
brushing Frangipanis

car-tyre swing
grandpa's the hand
that moves us

stars
in the light of each other
fill our sky

sunset mirror
the geese push aside
the light of the lake

wind
plucking roses
from the moon

flame trees in the park...
yet to fall
as red snow

lightning flashes--
there! in the tree!
a crow stares back

honey jar opened
flowers out the window
in a breeze

gold-rush town
broken shadows
perfectly still

sun bright pond
a carpet-snake
flat out to drink

daily walk
some Frangipani
stopped in... breathed in

drawn up
for retirement
a road trip

grandmother's
on her leather lounge
my feet touching the carpet

another bud
on the climbing rose
back fence this evening

cracked
for a chirp
magpie egg

the sudden shadow
of a hawk to the tree
we crouch down under

raising the bucket
a black eel swims
in bright well water

the summer sunrise
as it heats, is a mirror
on the wide flat sea

on a swaying branch
the crow's arrival
meets my eyes with hers

school exams
skywriting on the window
a bi-plane

a year passed...
father says
mum's herb garden needs work

on the window shelf
dried to fill
ten honey jars

I know only
needing the bush fires
most Gum trees will blossom

I know only
after the rain
some strawberry plants will fruit

dropping a pebble
down the well
a brown moth springs out

sunset river
a fallen Gum drifts
slow as the breeze

wattle
gold in the sunshine
gold in itself

from the first light
my ears hear only
the bell-bird's tinkle

long drought
the small frog cry
at its end

childless...
these starry nights
just the Big Bang expanding

mangrove tide
a silent movie
surrounds the strutting heron

a beach stroll
the crab claws
just under foot

late afternoon
in the hole of a fallen eucalypt
her daughter

through the low country
magpies bathing
in pot holes of rain

blackberries
her lips speaking purple
across the table

starfish fingers
can only wag
at the gull's attack

morning hello
the coffee foam
smiles on her lips

glasshouse
not timid with any tomatoes
for years now

paperbark tree
a roughhouse
to the ants' way home

magpie
her gurgles answer
the crack of an egg

swishing flies
the Jersey
ends in an udder

boathouse--
two girls enter
the wall of fog

midnight moon--
far out of town
the rail line--shining

lightning
ignites Laurel's face
I speak to

summer heat
the sunset shatters
the mirror at sea

fog
shaping the sounds
walked ahead

being alone...
I don't wave
the school children pass

flap of winds
the scarecrow's
faded coat

black hay-filled
scarecrow's coat
in the tall corn winds

verandah--
my murder novel
in the windchimes

on any grass
I can hear
the frost break

on any frost
I can feel
the grass break

on any shore
I will find them
rock pools of moon

Gum trees
lightening the thoughts
I drive home in

Mum's heat
drawing on life
to crack its egg

start of day
in the pond
the light of a frog's leap
Re: Basho'

autumn moves--
plastics making a dump
of rustled leaves

lightning
Laurel's startle
turns to darkness

praising dawn--
a magpie
the first soprano

in no songs
can the magpie tell
joys desert

holding the memory
I hold
the kid's tree house

midnight
moths just know
to circle the street lights

rain drizzles
the camp site--
the school holidays too

cellar wines--
I cannot tell
what age brings

Pacific rim
a sailboat
its future at the edge

bee hive
I cannot count
the flowers

summer breeze--
to a holiday house
a seagull calling

dodging them
should avoid the sunbeams
in Dad's old shed

strong winds
seagull cries
there! not here!

in the picnic
the freckles dotting
Laurel's nose

beyond us--
sunset steams
the sea with fire

geese bottoms-up
one last feed
before crossing a sea

the white lie
seen in my eyes
she sits--reflecting

a salmon
opens the hole
the dragonfly fights

in the park
dogs telling
through their tails

sunset sinks
I can not paint
the remainder

caravan park--
in the sea winds
the sun drowns

crossing the river
I feel for
invisible stones

cars on the bridge
a lightning
snuffs out the lights

toddler
her breath on the window
she fingers with

in the rain
I should not point out
the weeds she left

ghost town
a white horse
as we drive out

twin lakes
a duck dives in
the light of water
Re: Basho'

wet weekend
the cicadas
hold back their cries

cake forks down--
our Grand-aunt
contradicts our Mother

dazzling
the trams in light--
the midnight rain

sun danced
in the river
the stones we used to cross

how visibly
is Laurel changed
out of the waterfall

cutting herbs
I find I am back
to Mother's meals

in the earth
who can tell
the future of a seed

the ankles
your sari
brushes on stairs

brushing slowly
sounds as it is
the moon in Laurel's hair

sea colouring
the sunset's
orange juice

autumn blows
found in the leaves
the rake rusting

ebbing marsh
I know so well
the pelican's spiral

daughter
the front fence
in birthday balloons

art supplies
her pencils
draw the sun

a heart's arrow--
on the Gum tree
on the river

wind
the beach party
leaves together

web
a moth starts
its future as a spider

I reach out
the frog leaps to
the hole in water
Re: Basho'

in head lights--
crossing a bridge
Pines only above the mist

nursing home
I can't find out
who cleans father

the moon--
desires to caress
Laurel's back

fruit salad lunch
an orange peeled
spray of blindness

rain forest
greening the face
a child sees through

mantelpiece
all one time
the hour glass

abandoned farm
the windmill
turning rust

in the corn
I can't say
who rides through

last train
a sleep broken
by the steel in the bridge

country hotel
the bikies wearing
their colours in

Jerseys
their sashaying
I follow to the barn

mosquitoes
buzz ing ing ing
the fruit-bat echoes

the cattle-man stops
his sweat polished horse
flicking flies

no wind sounds
just the willows dangle in
the lazy river

seeing home
brightens the stream
she drives through

autumn leaves
the wet road's
sliding bend

out the window
she cannot love
her birding cat

surf's up
the waves roll
the sunsets in

honey comb
tastes of the red Gum
tastes of the bee

a growing wind
sweeps
the kindergarten sand

scooping stars
should sweeten our coffees
from the river

magpies
lighten the moods
I wake from

in these stones
I cannot find
the grains rain can

passing--
the lime bikini blonde
drips some surf on me

from home
to a lover's touch
your car beside mine

my smart phone
when wet and naked
stops

within the hailstones
dents
on another pond

leaving
the morning shower
cold

private
I steam open her letter
in an un-known hand

being in fog
yet by afternoon breeze
sunflower touching sunflower

changing the tune
his trumpet had---
the attic

afternoon heat
the crow tastes vodka
in the drink can

sliced ripe tomatoes
oozing
the juice I hosed in

Laurel's voice
crowded in the room
by new arrivals

second day at school
her hand goes
to another

her breaking mirror
scatters us
to where we are

sundial
quietly moving
midday

sweat
in my palms
her engagement ring

lost apples
the scent of their ciders
fermenting the earth

after the divorce---
my old dog wagging
needs a belly rub

a frog leaps
before the sound
the light of the water
Re: Basho'

her songs--
I don't know from the bird
all her generations

somersault
my dream struggles
in a river

the grunts
my wood chopping bounced
from the tin shed

ice melt
a patch of river
jostles to move on

just visible
the breaths of Laurel
from the movie---home

Zen garden
on the un-coiled hose
the dew...beads

end of day
the hawk's wings
folding up

verandah
all at once
grandma's rocker in the wind

shrinking village
not a Saturday night
where the singles dance

from the forest...
with a new straight cane
to walk home

summer vacation
I walk daily
in the fragrance of Jasmines

a horse crossing--
the pebbles after
in the river

horse crossing
the river shifts
on its pebbles

red traffic light
the cup of hot coffee
from its holder

wet Sunday
the boathouse
at the bend of the river

twilight walk--
in every rain puddle
leaving the moon

whirring
with the autumn winds
the sounds of Gum leaves

cornfield
the horizon's
black cloud-head

our orange sunrise
adding its chirps
the sparrow near me

old hay-filled
scarecrow's coat
in the tall corn wind

old gold-rush town...
afternoon crow calls
sifted by the wind

country hotel
through the open window
hearing the trees move

from the storm
the stampede of cattle
distant thunder

burning leaves
the daughter's giggles
whenever the winds shift

wheat harvest
the quiet of nights here
has a purpose

reflecting me
an old man
where the shore birds stand

gnarled old tree
its last season
to fill our apple pies

front door slam--
the school children finding
our warm peach pie

on our swimming pool
rains too
of the blue Jacaranda

down spirals
to ebbs of the tide
the bay's pelicans

a misty rain stops--
a butterfly enters
the door of our train

shooting ducks
one drowns
before the retriever bites

forest walk
my fear faced
in the spider webs

the rain stopped---
the ants being rushed
by the sunshine

half-drowned in the weir
crayfish feelers
at the tops of my legs

an alley cat
moves with the umbrella
in the rain

in stars
two fireflies here, no there
over the pond

snake
her shed skin
rolls slowly in the wind

summer roasts on---
longing
a minute if rain

cave mouth--
an eagle cries in
the lift from mountains

first summer storm
so affirming
I merely stroll home

turning
the boathouse key
on a wet weekend

on the wettest weekend
magpies full of songs
to wake me

lazy midday
all the river is
rests on its shadows

dance class tonight...
my thoughts all month
of more under-arm spray

the rush inside the storm
---only this motel door
to look out

such is wind
the burnt Pine
leans

reflections
the river Gum
falls

surrounding
the eucalypti
the season of rings

she looks back---
the child like I faced
a kindergarten gate

sound travels
for no special purpose
a magpie wakes me

blanket snow
a bellbird
tinkles the air

freezing ears--
over blankets of snow
a bellbird...tinkles

the summer's third moon
a whale feeding bub
where the river enters the sea

fire station
the national flag flaps
--they are all out

sad
the almost new long red coat
of the scarecrow

winter morning web
a spider's face
hangs with the dew

magpies sing
through the streaks of dawn
the first bus comes

showering--
roses from Laurel's soap
fills the mist

riverbed
listening
where the drought runs

silent night
to the moon on the pond
a bat swooping to sip

close swooping eagle--
the young rabbit just now
bolts and scampers

garage door
the stray's litter
slinks from our headlights

dust storm
stealing the farm's top soil
out of our hands

hoar frost--
through the hanging icicles
a magpie--- sings

blue-skies drought--
waiting in the Gum trees
buds under their bark

I paddle... they paddle
our counties shared
with migrating geese

honey bees
in the red flowering Gums
the air hums with scent

dairy machines
the cows low to
the sound of the suckles

the boy's stick pokes---
rushing the ant hill
out of itself

summer winds
the inflated scarecrow
stranger to the crows

late midday
overcoming a fog
the sunflowers shine

Aquarius stars
out of endless space
no comfort to my birthday

their tweets--
through the pack of sparrows
the bird-bath...fights

alone and along...
a beach ball
heading the wind

the ice drips and drips--
through dawn the singers
out of their plumes

cracking the pond ice--
a stallion alone
breathes out the frost

our rowing boat
caught in the reeds
a kookaburra laughs

re-filling the radiator
kangaroos hop past---
one stares...as if such a thing!

the old man among the tides
takes off as a pelican--
as light as air

green pastures
udders filling
cud by cud

the swishing cow
her many darts of flies
brought to the barn

Monarchs
picking the river stones
to rest their migrations on

insomnia...
still the quiet
to reach

a desert rain
still urgent
to seed

Zen garden
still the winds
to disorder

start of day
still colours
to turn clear

nursing home
still bonsai
to shape

nude art
model's hair
still to brush

rose petals
still rain grown
to fall again

winter fog
still droplets
to the webs

deep autumn
still the Flame trees
to fall as snow

sea like thoughts
still in the dark
to sunrise

crow arrives
still silence
to await its caw

spider webs
still beading the fog
to midday

moon tipped leaves
still to fall
to rustles

enough mist
still to sign
the window

what settles us down
sweet sixteen daughter
turning the porch light off

the sunset rushing
I cannot paint
what still remains

underground trains
the airs' to and fro
around their blouses

a humming bird hovers
her stamina
each sip brings

swinging us out
and into the river
the lean of the eucalypt

her greetings
fly out to the car
home for Easter

a leg bone knitting...
an afternoon nap
takes up time

so quietly it floats
the lemon Gum that lent
to the river

sudden red light
our car's soft rear
crumbling

little garden helper
the splinter withdrawn
and kissed by Mum

rustlings in autumn
the naked surprise
of a white Eucalypt

ebb tide...
the seas and skies
of the rock pools

a frog plopped...
taking its sound
to deep water

late night party--
our neighbour today
shy on the stairs

just gone noon--
our unpacked picnic
on the gingham cloth

just above the slime--
a gentle breeze
lifts the gold leaf

moon lit skins
I hold from touching
her few freckles

the long pond ripples--
my under-arm flip
of the flat-stone

just plopped...
the pond gathered in
around a frog

tiny cascade
a rainbow bridged
across the stones

the lift jolts...
a little bob
of her pony tail

tent rains...
my hour of cards
in solitaire

we fished
right up to supper...
the campfire pan

heads up...
wildflowers
in the first rain drops

sunflowers in rain
the weeds I threw
onto the path

squawking in turns
at the sand storm
gulls in a circle

oil paints...
the bowl of fruits
before it corrupts

harvest town
early breakfasts for us
have a purpose

demolition
a bob-cat still in the bedroom
this morning

night breeze
a sunflower sweeps
against the brick wall

the moon-rise snakes
in slow curves
of the river

mountain eagle
I am the ears
who hears its cry

sunflower
a little breeze
in its waves

eagle's feet
the one hooked
prey

at dawn
the sing-songs raspy
of the crow's voice

new wallet
the daughter's photo
needing teeth

clawed with winter
grandmother knitting
her pain

a sea of moon...
the shadows
my jogging passes

fallen Oak
its open grave
bathed in light

shedding rose...
sprinkled on the table
moonlight through a vase

I hear the wind telling
in autumn rustles--
no leaf returns exactly

river Gums
the sound a rope swing
carries me back

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

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 with my cards

across temple grounds
the lawns pecked
around us

driftwood beach
mainly gulls mainly
in the curves of the sea

dog refuge
in soft eyes
taking her home

bright
in the torchlight
my door key turning

beach shack
staring at a sun-bucked sea
the gulls ride on

holiday house
opening this winter smell
to the windows

fresh pink paint
she asks
will her toy pram dry

fairy tales
chasing
her fear to dream

guided to us
by the shifts of stars
migrating geese

a late picnic
the sunset's
polished lake

a lunch-time jog
dodging
the smells of the city

afternoon sun
airing for our party
her little black dress

a beach breeze
salt coats
all their parked cars

answering
our drought
a few perfectly black clouds

beach walk
the smells of the ocean
it brings to the shore

shadows inching...
in the bone winter trees
a crow caws,caws,caws

sunset beach
a hover of seagulls
unafraid of our dogs

first songs--
the stretched sunrise
searching in Gum trees

our blanket of stars
her pale skin near
in the camp light

solitude...
the beach prints
I left this morning

breathing in
near to a perfect
mountain view

finished the climb
some of the cleats
we left in the rocks

the old man
with his fish and chips
huffs and puffs at seagulls

mating season
they watch the gang wars
these younger magpies

blue empty sky
my horse stooped
to the river puddles

my bread crusts
starting a turf war
of magpies

grey autumn showers
the sound of the leaves
softer now

the whole day
in sounds of autumn
needing the wind

a bird bath, and
the hammer to crack
morning frosts

thought I'd drop into
her sick room...
frangipanis

Sunset sinks
a brumby splashes through the river
to the cool green hills.

Her back-yard wedding...
how changed
has our daughter's play become.

Fallen sugar-gum
almost forgotten by the earth
being bathed in moonshine.

Apple trees
how gossamer under each
is the after-rain mist.

Folding wings
the geese's summer journey
has crossed the sea.

Stacked fire-wood
to defend her nest
the funnel-web's fangs.

A mountain trek
on the downhill side
two butterflies leading.

A dirt road
hearing the trees, their wheeze
I start my walk again.

Unexpected find these
love letters in a fire-place
behind this false wall.

Apple trees
saps drawing up a frost
from the fell earth.

The old man waits
free tomatoes on his fence
for any conversation.

Family beach
with the lime bikini blonde
someone's pretty tot.

The wind is all winter
no gulls huddled
along the stinging sands.

Dim subway
young police
half bent over the bag-lady.

Swirling fogs
two trains at the road crossing
suddenly pass.

Tail swishing summer...
lazy with milk
our jersey to the old barn.

Sand castle
letting the children learn
how the sea takes.

Mountain view
one winding road
has left the valley.

Busy corner
a man's road rage
in his tight summer suit.

Apple orchard
the fruits turning cider
in the hot north wind.

Leafless vine
the spider thinks how to change
her web in the sun.

Letter box
the post man straightens
the old girl's fence.

Barn owl
seeing how lovers
are led by spring.

Long highway
the motel mirrors
with sounds behind.

High school
the fullness of bodies
chewing gum.

Spring breeze
Gums rubbing power poles
for any spark.

Sheep lambing
crows whet their beaks
on the barbed-wire fence.

Abandoned boy's home
and did I break a window
to scramble out.

Country hotel
the currawong calls
come free with breakfast.

Tea brews
among the patio ferns
grandmother's talk.

Campfire
eye to eye
the tears of Gum leaf smoke.

Ghost Gum valley
silence but for
the stones of the stream.

Squatting in the fog
the silence of numbats
grooming their bushy tails.

Railway cross-road
the quiet grazing
of the stockman's cattle.

Eucalypt valley
lightning bright enough
for the Gum leaves tremble.

Telephone line
with the laughs of kookaburras
to something just heard.

Old Labrador
in the middle of a dream
that I tip-toe past.

Father looks away
so soon all her good-byes
from her wedding party.

Divorcee
listening to the wipers
clear the windscreen.

Below sound
but the bull-ants have found
the fallen fledgling.

Farm drought
only the bore-water trough
to keep the sheep full.

Bell birds
piano practice leaves
the little girl's hands.

Rainbow bee-eater
how fast the buzz grows
among the wildflowers.

Red flowering Gum
how the cicada has quietened
in the boy's dirty hand.

After the storm
in leaves
wattle birds making rain.

Wife moving close...
near the end of the wedding
their nervous vows.

Sudden noise in the wind
the start of a dream
I'll never see finished.

Country hospital
about four beds counted
for the up-turned bus.

Antique shop
rings in the table top
showing the maple's age.

Pointing up
she says shooting star
with a lisp.

Hanging her wash
the young wife looks over
towards the city.

Kookaburras laugh
no need to look up the river Gums
for a reason to smile.

Rainbow lorikeets leave
the sugar-gum breeze...
a feather floats.

Listen
the barn owl turning
to our embrace.

Lace curtains
so many full moons
to the pretty tot's eye.

Mason
waiting around his yard
headstones in moonlight.

Sunlit hills
the hawk and shadow
squeeze their prey together.

River picnic
soaking our blanket
with yesterday's rain.

Autumn
raked leaves loosened
then the lizard's eye.

Laying bricks...
no escape
the dog wants their daily walk.

Pond reeds
through the half slanting sun
a dragonfly race.

Train whistles
the snow quiet town
closed for the night.

Dining table
daggers of light
the silver moon.

Unexpected...
loneliness
on this beach full of stars.

His short apology,
and how the chocolates after
cling and cling.

Antiques shop
awakening
grandmother's lilac scent.

Parrot feather
plucked from the breeze
rain in my palm.

First light
glittering the hallway
with our dust.

Ceased rowing
Laurel's hand swirls the leaves
around us.

Echoing
lime-stone caves
another tiny drip.

The same direction
eagle wings
in the sound of the wind.

Bus stop seat
a brown bite
in the red apple.

The chill that showers
sprinkle over me...
sick friend's garden.

Naked flame-trees
the park's ankle-deep leaves
rustle and gather.

Tomato stakes
how bent the bamboo
with tennis-ball fruits.

The tide returns...
driftwood stays
breaking waves.

Winter is all grey
blinking in the drizzle
harbour lights.

Bell bird
refills the emptiness
of a whitening fog.

City rain
cars on the bridge
cocooned in their lights.

River rafting
in and out of the white foam
to the other side.

The sheep mob nibbles...
a mother dumps her new toy
and inspects it.

Midday walk
up the steep hill
a dragon fly clicking past.

Harvester starts
the first cloud of diesel
into the wheat field.

Turning the corner
first warmth of spring
along the hallway.

Dawn spreads
a cowbell tinkles
to the milk shed.

Weight lifter
his tattoos strained
by the bar-bell.

Earth birth
the dewy lawn thrusts
her mushrooms out.

Thunder claps
the plum tree shakes
its blossoms out.

Shower mist
following her into
the frangipani scents.

The winds ruffle
a magpie gurgles
into her eggs.

Afternoon showers...
a bustle of wagtails
about the front yard.

Winter's last
gentled by the bleat
of spring lambs.

Playful !! maybe not
in and out of the pond's reeds
dragonflies.

The Ibis are old men
moseying , meddling
in the mud bay shallows.

From the wood bridge
we cross by daily
the diving school-kids.

Splattering bird-bath
they ignore the woman's stance
bent to enjoy them.

The beach roasts
a blonde passing
drips sea on my skin.

Without the others
what pleasure is in one
blue curling foaming wave.

Tool shed door
so many wood shavings
gathered by the wind.

Goldfish tank
their lips move in and out
of the ceiling.

Dawn spreads
gulls manning
the beached canoe.

Hang glider
swirling out of the sun...
the child's eyes follow.

Where clouds would be...
taking a while to leave
my envy of the wild geese.

It happened last night
grape vine just old enough
pregnant with buds.

In the dead of night
train whistles
connecting the towns.

The telescope gift
no one comes to...
Saturn and its rings.

In a few tomato cartons
old books
untouched in the garage sale.

How furiously
the tiger moth entangles
the circle of silk.

Campfire ceiling
no spaces found yet
for any new stars.

Finding a shadow
the platypus frightened
by another canoe.

Tourist resort
choosing our memories
from the post-card rack.

Cleaner than the others
a rain puddle
looking back.

Scarlet forest
sunset slanting
through the ghost gum leaves.

River crossing
still on the edge
the brumby's nerves.

Farm drought
only the rain water tank
giving the crows shade.

We drive home late
trucks racing trucks
throughout the rain.

Tin roof
the sleeplessness
of leaves in the wind.

Easily seen
yet the neighbour's son silent
in our mango tree.

Orchard kiosk
paying for our box of peaches
in their honour tin.

Carbuncle in the soil
the coming... the going...
of the bull-ant mound.

Moonlight
looking into the Gum tree
for the owl's hoot.

Gate in the wind
to stop the noise
the neighbour's barking dog.

Following them down
on their frozen faces
the elevator jolt.

Nursing home
mistake after mistake
their faded tattoos.

Auctioneer
so soon under his hammer
our family home.

Home from school
one smell from the kitchen
being fresh apple-pie.

Edge of the cliff
no moonlight
to the touch of a web.

Homeless...
the lazy river
in a wide brown flood.

My guitar riff
a breath of jasmine
has crossed the room.

Sunset darkens
nearly at the snake's young
the school boy's stick.

Old sailor home...
no escaping his tall tales
for the grandchildren.

Tiny forest noises...
whose death call
comes tonight.

Orchard fog
the shapes apple trees make
being picked.

Reaching the full moon
the nearly straight fence
of barbed wire.

Wheat field
the urge to meander
in the waves of the wind.

Down ... and feathered
from the parrot's nest
our neighbour's cat.

Fig trees
the night's thunder shaking
some fruit bats out.

Going ... coming ... going
driftwood tossed
along the empty beach.

Treeless dirt road
the rosella keep bathing
in their pot-holes of rain.

Door slam
his loudly bruising finger
that mum kisses.

Water lilies
a duck under their skirts
feeling for snails.

The early worm turns ...
a magpie
scissoring half.

First snow...
a newcomer taking
our poker night wins.

Winter cabin
I roll the carrot rings
into our hot busy stew.

Tiny silent stream
the salmon's leap
from moon to moon.

Confessional
the sound from some priest
forbidding my sins.

Nylon dress
her hisses at lunch
reaching across the table.

Old boxed letters
someone longing
in my mother's voice.

Licking his whiskers
touched by them ...
the cat's sardines.

More than a child is
she carries
a bird from the road.

Cicada in the tree
becoming more like us
the child listens.

At child's end
she nurses
a bird from the road.

The old couple
leaves raked
at autumn's end.

Farm drought
in the wrinkles tattooed
on both their faces.

Such blinding heat
just the shrill of cicadas
out of the dry north winds.

White frost
the rain puddle
making ice of the moon.

Bedroom window
mirrored with dawn
a magpie pecking the magpie.

In the Zen garden too
adding
a handful of compost worms.

Eucalypt forest
the sound of the wind
reshaping itself.

Skipping school
the cicada's racket
in the boy's tin can.

Beach pavilion
an Emperor moth and I
outwaiting the storm.

Swirls of snow
the mountain road tilts
with passing cars.

Aunt's visit
her hat feather's bob-bobbing
in our conversation.

Full udder ...
scratching her day's itch
on the old barn door.

Summer art class
our watercolours preserving
the rises of seeds.

Thunder rattles ...
the quiver of ferns
in their garden beds.

Zen breathing
the last train home
in the lightness of sleep.

Sunset garden
the buzz from honeysuckles
has fled the day.

Frost in the hills
the cattle dogs mouthing-off
with their cloudy breaths.

Tripped by a log
half-way to joining the stars
the flash of my torch.

Street parade
leaving the balloons limp
midday summer heat.

Into a great gloom
the rain forest swallowing
our bicycle lights.

A moray eel's cave ...
in circles with itself
while we swim past.

Dawn rises
the wings of the sea eagle
re-shaping their light.

Apricot sky
sand dunes following
the afternoon wind.

Cemetery
dried wreaths becoming
the crow's new nest.

Winter frost
limp with the river
little bags of kittens.

Homeward
over the holiday resort
migrating geese.

Empty letter box
down the path
through sunflowers.

Telescope
wheeling against deep space
a perfect Mars.

Long walk home ...
the rattling of the storm
agog in gutters.

Sun-bright blue
the jacaranda's carpet
on the swimming pool.

The summer day sets ...
an eagle is shaping itself
on a far fiery cloud.

Winter shadows
a sun spot leaping
from the garden shed.

Ocean sunset
stepping from wave to wave
a summer breeze.

Her wreath placed ...
contriving me a speech
to be remembered.

Rushed breakfast
the cat's gentle tapping
on my shoe.

Grandmother's eyes ...
the months of her mantelpiece's
un-wiped dust.

School exams ...
a bi-plane's skywriting
out the window.

Mushroom search
the shapes of trees dripping
whitened by fog.

Winter ends
under the walk bridge
a bubbling river.

Faster with its music
on crowded nights
the old merry-go-round.

Bus stop
sweating in winter
the cake-shop window.

Pawn shop
trays mostly
engagement rings.

Midday heat
she brings us sliced iced mangoes
on a cold white plate.

We have the same thoughts
picking her passionfruit vine
... grandmother's jam.

Grandchildren
the sway of her breasts
preparing their beds.

Between stones
hands making a cup
of the cool stream.

Up the gull-stained cliffs
no one climbs
just the bright orange dawn.

The birding cat
that stone I just threw
which one did it hit.

Breathless summer night
the ice-cube jug sweats out
on the verandah.

Bedside stories
the tot finding shadows
too like her dreams.

I , an eagle ...
heaving out to
the surface of air.

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

Painter's brush
creating the waterfall
without a sound.

Hitchhikers ...
growing and growing
their far travelled tales.

Dusk quickens
magpies quietening
into shadows.

Wine and cheese night
the joys of the riffs
from a jazz trio.

Waterfall ...
without the sun to dry us
it was then Laurel laughed.

Sketched
before corruption
the fruit bowl's apple.

Bird-bath splashes
I compose me a haiku
about the garden.

Face-painting
being mother
she tries it before her doll.

In the last train
following
the storm home.

Another autumn leaf
becoming litter ...
the cawing of a crow.

Her call ends ...
a half decent senryu
on my jotting pad.

A garden shed noise
it was then I saw
the dead spider's eyes.

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

Summer begins
a chorus of cicadas
into the park.

In the fifty acres
pitching with the wind ...
green rustled corn.

Patio icicles ...
the morning of sunshine
just fills a cup.

Inside the ice sculptures
something
like shadows move.

Mangrove mud
the slither of a snake
from the sunlight.

The river forks ...
pondering a while
in our picnic canoe.

The impatient tot's
foil wrapped
Easter egg.

The kangaroo's stare
moon bright ...
mine too looking back.

Lake side
beyond the streetlights
another moon.

Waterlilies ...
no canoe glides
only mayflies hide and seek.

Old horse barn
smelling a sunbeam
about the stalls.

Forest winds
only the painter's easel
standing still.

School holidays ...
on their hop-scotch chalk
a stray curled dog.

Road kill
the blackness of crows
tasting a crow.

Home lakes
geese cries forgetting
the ocean flight.

Descending
to the pull of tides
the bay's pelicans.

Evening walk ...
away from the house
away from the silence.

Midday sun
slowly ending
Sunday's lay-in.

Dirt road
the tall grass swishes
of a quick brown snake.

Saw mill town
slowly growing Pines
in the pot-holes.

Winter storm
after jogging home
to lentil soups.

Home alone
spreading in father's shed
the spilled red paint.

Camp-fire moon
talking alone
to lunacy.

New moon
the crunch of a white frost
along country roads.

Being summer
jelly-fish melting
above the tides.

Creeping under tin roofs
rust
of the sea fogs.

Low tide
etched around
the horse-shoe of the bay.

Shooting stars
their tails come to us
in our own air.

Friday night poker
hands dealing into
a square of the moon.

Cellar wines
in cool walls
a cricket's constant chirp.

Being dragon eyed
the gulls frightened
by his kite.

Leaving its shadow
the mouse taken
by a hawk.

Waterwheels
sipping wine by the pond
with Laurel.

Ghost town
deeper each year
the earth pollinates.

Sequin dress
the entire dance floor
to herself.

Our affair
coming out
in coffee lounges.

New year's hour
her breath
in me.

Fumbling with keys
fumbling with locks
the child home from school.

Patio ...
listening to the autumn
crinkle leaves.

In mother's wake
cygnets bob
the sunshine about.

Day breaks
in the stilly silence
a dream still dreaming.

In his autumn days
father talks now
at our fishing spot.

After us
about ten cows sashaying
from the buttercup field.

Whale watch
one wave rising
out of the blue.

Darkness and devils
my head bowed under
these shrieking bats.

Patio winds
pruning the bonsai too
of autumn leaves.

Today's outing ...
at the duck pond
the old girl and her bread.

Sunset
following the geese
on an ancient journey.

Laundry door
the children's height
faintly pencilled.

Soon to fall Pine
sunlit
her perfect raised saplings.

Gold autumn leaves
a log in the river
hoarding its treasure.

Autumn breeze
a river cruise passed
by nothing that moves.

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

Midday or later
the shrill of cicadas
across the heat of the park.

Below our hearing
the guard dog's chain
pulled tighter.

The dragonfly hovers ...
circles in the bird bath
mingle.

In hot north winds
no wattle trees shade
the cicada shrills.

Pink bedroom
letting her kitten catch
the wall's torchlight.

Barbed wire fence
kangaroo skins
cleaned by crows.

New table
the white square of it
around our old blue vase.

Still alive
on the bull ant nest
the scorpion's sting.

The pelican's descent
follows the outpourings
of the sea.

The bamboo rake
rests against
a naked oak.

Grandkids
their chocolate kisses
going home.

Asking directions ...
only the older workmen
in blue singlets speak. .

Freight train
whistling
its reason to sound so alone.

For hours now
the abattoir has no sound...
a crescent moon.

Wedge-tail eagle
fleeing from the sunset
red with fire.

Rain forest ...
caught in a sunbeam
green tourists.

Country road
kicked from its belly
an ancient quartz stone.

Still hovering
pinnacles of pampas grass
the dragonfly.

Out and out
of the cave's mouth
screams of the fruit bats.

Neighbour's son
our strawberry side
of the fence.

Back to my childhood
I wipe a bit of jam
from the tot's lips.

When love was easy
grandmother's lunch
over her lace table.

Cormorants
before us
diving below the lake.

On the sunlit lake
that migrating geese
call home.

A Pine falls
about ten saplings
refill its place.

A jazz record--
the blues from the jacaranda
floats to the lawn.

Lover's lane
windscreens fogging
their silence.

Tall old woman
gloves on in the hallway
with nowhere to go.

Evenings wings
two upside down clouds
across the lake.

The crow pecked at
insect screen
on a warm spring day.

Rain forest
all the edges blurred
green.

Interstate station
the train's steam embracing
their hurried kiss.

Rain near
a rainbow rings
the half moon.

Brushing past
the dog's stick
into the river.

Beyond the camp-fire
stars pricking
the dark.

Gulls fleeing
the bruised sky
of the winter storm.

Verandah
dusk follows
the old folk inside.

Puddles of rain
the cattle lowing
upside down.

In forest
a cat's tail swishing
around the fog.

In her stones
the old stream trickles
another thaw.

Straw sun-hat
shapes of your digging
in the herb garden.

In Gum trees
the shape of a girl smoking
... the fog shifts.

In the hills
the last train whistled
the town's goodbye.

Found on the lawn
just the smell of dog
in her dressing gown.

At drought's end
the earth sweet smell
of the cattle's breath.

Old snake skin
in last year's rings
along the track.

Apple blossoms
kicking out at the carpet
around me.

Wedge-tail eagle
following the last hour
of sunset.

Pub closed
the sailor against the fence
with these waves about.

The steel bucket
comes up the stone well
dancing.

At midnight
shrieking bats shrieking
from the cave's stone mouth.

Winter's about
following me around
with white breaths.

Pet song on the radio ...
too rushed
making their school lunches.

Its nerves
trapping the pheasant
in my rifle sights.

Coloured balloons
tied to the front fence ...
the birthday ones.

Caught in time
ladybirds photographed
on the yellow roses.

The rusting freight yard
no trains come to ...
boys with stones.

Picking apple trees
an eagle glides above us
shaped by the wind.

Reading my novel
neighbours move out...
next door moves in.

Sea wall
just me dangling
for a fish to bite.

Every Wednesday
the priest brushing
the nun's confession.

Unless he gives illusions
the street magician
has no charms.

Ripe cornfield
a rustle from
the coloured wind.

Video taped
cornered inside our space
the comet's tail.

Train doors spring open
the butterfly's flutter in
finds me.

Ripe cornfield
discovering at the centre
a scarecrow's clothes.

Wet weekend
the mists in the shade
of our town hall steeple.

The scent of Pines ...
stooped in the clearings
spotless skies.

In the nursing home
my mother's face
as I remind her.

In sunrise...
a frog on a lily-pad
green of itself.

Rain forest
a bell-bird's singing
comes out of the fog.

Summer's end
the unsung cicadas too
beginning to die.

Sunday afternoon
the merriment of ants
with a butterfly's wing.

Garden helper
all the pain of the bruise
kissed away by mum.

Road trip ...
tedious
and his harmonica came too.

Bring us your driftwoods
tides, ebbs from those unknown lands
bring them all face down.

Such is pity
the spider cannot release it
the Emperor moth.

An owl hoots
hedging around shadows
the old tom cat.

Immersing fog
the caws of magpies
around me again.

Breathless summer night
a possum sits beside
the back yard pool.

Cool forest
the ghost Gums reaching
their tall light to me.

Winter
melting the brown carpet
with leaf mould.

Bay shallows
stabbing for any young thing
the old man Ibis.

Bathroom tiles
too many ; no not too many
tiny footprints in the talc.

A salt wind brings rain
not far from us
the cry of gulls.

Ripe corn rustles
turn me around
to the scarecrow.

First dew ...
not far from home
picking field mushrooms.

The old couple ...
flames from their raked leaves
fading now.

Rock climbing
the click from the wings
of a dragonfly.

In and out
of the foster child
the family's name.

Wind rattles the house
the moon glows in
on child to child.

Doctor's rooms
a tank of goldfish
taking their turns.

Holding its shape
unbaked
the thin clay vase.

Scattering leaves
moonlight bounces
in the orange tree.

One star
in their minds
guiding geese.

Still tacky
in green wet paint
the platform seats.

Autumn oak
the zigzag fluttering
of butterfly leaves.

Our home for sale
sparrows peck the lawn
near auction's end.

A scatter of clouds,
silver-edged
fruit bats across the moon.

Garden pond
did the tiger moth just give up
to drown in the moon.

Fallen figs
the cat the mouse sees
has crossed the lawn.

Muscatel vines
storm clouds
rushing the harvest.

Flood recedes
a patch of sunlight
wrinkled in mud.

Icing
the patio furniture
moonlit frost.

On our back yard snow
crows being
the other colour.

The boy's scooped in
cicada shrills
from his marmalade jar.

Late home
only bedroom moonlight
on her form.

In far away hills
whistling
the wheat train's descent.

Midday heat
she brings us pomegranates
peeled and chilled.

Being alone
with them across the valley;
magpie echoes.

Corn field
a rider parts
the ocean.

A bright sunbeam
in the eucalypt
where the butterflies mate.

Dances
drawn on the breeze
fireflies.

After martinis
the lost sunset
chilling us.

Catching a lift
from the wheat field's heat
a wedge-tail eagle.

Winter light
through the naked roses
your lingerie drying.

At the cave mouth
wildflowers
in the tongue of a breeze.

Interstate train ...
the last thing from her
a hand covered smile.

Passing a flame tree
onto the hearse
autumn adds a leaf.

Fruit knife
beside the peelings
our hot apple pie.

Thwack !!
the way thunder feels
in our old tin shed.

Migrating geese
the sounds of the summer
carried on a breeze.

From the black on white
the crow leaves
just the snow.

Gentle waves
rolled in scarlet
sunset.

Ant-black trail
returning to the garden bed
butterfly wings.

Paddling up river ...
a horse ponders
and returns to drink.

Midday heat
such fierce buzzing surrounds
the rainbow bee-eater.

City fog
office girls
coming through the park.

Ski fields
a white overcoat
around the mountain.

Scent of a storm
the caw of a crow
leaving the tree.

Hot apple pie
our dessert spoons
digging deep.

Fog thickens
a crow caws louder
from the neighbour's fence.

School exams
a magpie pecks itself
in their window.

Dry lightning
in the white-gum's litter
leaves smoke.

As sun sets ,
the ones I missed
weeding the garden.

Mountain Pines
a Christmas-card snow
sprayed on the lake.

Hot north winds ...
hosing her herb garden
she uncurls leaf after leaf.

Jogging slower
under the flowering Gums
that sing with cicadas.

Labrador and I
waiting for the moon rise
to whiten the snow.

Midnight snack
in the light , in the quiet
of a lonely day.

The stillness
as days end
of moonlight in water.

Canoeing where
the Southern Cross
is mirrored on.

Misting lake
at the cabin door
tea mug warms my hands.

Dust eddies
under the bridge
raising the drought.

Winter outside
the glass-house tomatoes
and I perspire.

Remaining leaves
the old oak more gold
in the setting sun.

Floods recede
cattle and calves
swelling the hills.

Blue baby eyes
his mother's milk
composing a burp.

Waterfall spray
under the cover of dusk
Laurel showering.

In meadow frost
the way the brumbies' necks
cross each other.

Apple tree budding ...
last year
hair to pull a comb through.

No answer ...
on the glass table
the long chain on her house key.

Migrating south
between our boats , between our joys
more whales this year.

Blackberries picked
our hands and smiles
the same purple.

Crickets
under the floor boards
forgetting sleep.

Sun blind
the mouse moves in and out
of the eagle's eye.

Short dress
the long whistles
follow.

Homing pigeons
the eagle's shape
out of the blue.

Strange fruit in the mango tree
the dog guards
the cat's escape.

Red dirt road
in dried cracked puddles
the midday sun.

Mosquito
bringing the dog's blood
into my sleep.

Far horizon
in the breeze a magpie
pecks the scarecrow's eye.

At the mountain spring
her kissing lips
on the mouth.

Dawn opens
another magpie tenor
underneath the lead.

Seen in Father's eyes
so soon ! she leaves
her wedding.

To the gypsy geese
that return this year
our blue shining lakes.

Neighbour's son
our ripe strawberries
fills his pockets.

Family album
the child points
some forgotten ones out.

This morning's fog ...
I am swallowed in the park
with magpie calls.

Sand bar
the king tide
rises over itself.

Dim hallway
the grandfather clock
unwinds its chimes.

Lingering
under the waterfall
a brace of lovers.

After Sunday lunch
the weight
of summer heat.

Whiskey-raw midnight
only country songs
in the motel room.

Clear again
the rainbow
connecting hills.

Midnight breeze
rustling other leaves
an owl arrives.

Flood-lights
the lake and sky
the same full moon. .

She stoops to sip
the cool spring mouth
quenching another.

Winter dusk
brightening
the traffic lights.

Crow caws
deepening
the city's fog.

Express train
the swell of ruffled blouses
along the platform.

Bush walk
found in the heat
a clearing full of sky.

Melt-water fishing
the rainbows in the skins
of the trout.

Quivering still
a clap of thunder
among the wildflowers.

Gold chalice
frosted
the port-wine breath of the priest.

Summer is fleeting
another cicada
at the end of its shrills.

Clothes line
swinging the laughs
of children.

On the wall of graffiti
we pass at lunch,
nearly perfect ... a blue orchid.

Museum
my daughter and I
share the world going past.

Weekend shed ...
new smells shaved
from the old furniture.

Piebald cat
caught slinking past
our games in the pool.

Latin music
drawn to the rhythm
on Laurel's hips.

Foaming
around the bend
river boulders.

House auction day ...
vacuuming
my old bedroom.

Winds tap
the hen house waits
in the fox's shadow. .

Dust storm
the farm's drought
vanishing.

Blinding heat
bright lizard eyes
from the just-raked leaves.

The way the frog's slither
is slimy
from the boy's hands.

Cathedral closed
giddy with fear
the black bird's long caw.

Putting the dog out
moonlight and garden
scented with herbs.

Ascending lark
the marmalade cat
too thin from kittens.

Summer wind chimes
the fireflies spinning
around the night air.

Windy forest
trying to paint the floor
with moonshine.

Cold French fries
desperate to join any fight
the loudest gull.

One tyre
cracks the full moon ...
a frozen puddle.

Skeletons ...
stark in winter light
trees on the hill.

Clothes out drying ...
coming through the maze
an Emperor moth.

Old Labrador
still finding sniffles
around the park trees.

Full moon ...
only fruit bat squeaks
from the cave's mouth.

Rowing on the lake
magpie ducks slide
into the dawn mist.

Turtledove meat ...
how tenderly the eagle
feeds her young.

Park bench ...
autumn so silent
I kick up the dry gold leaves.

Oasis palms
a flotilla of camels
has crossed the sands.

How knuckle hard
is the full moon
in the pond of ice.

Cutting their school lunches ...
the tea-kettle
whistles to itself.

Sudden frost
so rigid to touch
a frill-necked lizard.

Boy's kite
climbing on the breezes
out of the park.

First thaw
not the same brook crossing
as this morning.

The rainbow gift
of a summer storm
arching trees.

Separated ...
a cave bat hangs itself
from the fig tree.

Fallen Gum
in unfamiliar light
the eager of her saplings.

Old bath tub
the growth spilling over
of strawberries.

Kindergarten sleeps
one tiny soldier
still finger painting.

Leaning all over father
replacing a wheel
on her doll's pram.

Midday fog ... coming out
the picket fences
dry to grey.

I ... of these hooked feet
silent out of sun and wind
hawks kill whom we want.

Ghost town
the drought-thin trees
of its surrounds.

Ferris-wheel lights
her pirouettes and pirouettes
in the queue.

Dark verandah
our neighbour draws back
on her cigarette.

Easter eggs
the tiny tots together
in foil wrappers.

Dawn
rose red first
in the eye of an eagle.

Into dusk
the hitchhiker turns
his collars up.

After the storm
tulips brimming
with moonshine.

Not playing ... drowning
the river bagged
kittens.

After
this mountain climb
content to stare to beyond.

Liquor store
the heat wave
still in its walls.

Spring rain
cacti shaping leaves
to the same needles.

Boy's first telescope
the pockmarked face
of the moon.

Rock climb
being alone
my car keys jingle.

The stars glitter ...
These sparks that rise
out of the camp-fire.

In bare feet
the new carpet
changing every room.

Before us
in the bright stream
flint stone tools from the past.

After the screech
of a circling eagle
the wind-swished corn leaves.

Icy frost
cracking the river edge
the horse's hooves.

Salt and peppered
on the puddles
winter starlight.

Her one-eyed doll
avoiding its stare
the neighbour's cat.

The teens tantrums
from the back seat
a winding road.

Afternoon play
the pencilled dolphins
she crayons red.

On a first date
sliding into the car
his heart throb.

Lightning bolts
all the clouds
falling back to sea.

After the storm
our marmalade cat
tiptoes the lawn.

Gold chalice
over the Host
the priest's winy breath.

At the open window
hair waving
from the dresser's comb.

Wedge-tail eagle
embracing
the thermals.

Summer garden
the grasshopper
to every shadow's hand.

Parkland mist
the flame trees naked
in a cold dawn light.

The flame trees drip
and hour by hour
the street fog glows with headlights.

Steel sink ... cooling for us
a baked pie
beside its apple skins.

Mountain frost
dribbling from both our noses
the sniffles.

An owl hoots---
the stream's murmur
agog with stones.

With autumn fallen
the way white Gums seem naked
around the park.

Red dragon wings
the boy's birthday kite
in the park's breeze.

Buried pet ...
the climbing rose regrows
her bones.

On the moon
only the river red Gums
reflecting.

Window breeze
the scales of the lace
coming to rest.

Eagle's screech
an orange peel squeezed
into your face.

Motel door
cobwebs of fog
between the mountains.

All day inside , out,
hearing the clouds pass
in wind and rain.

The break
in a fog that clings
the winter moon.

Traffic honks
the route our canoe takes
between the geese.

Full moon
in a line of sight
that the owl makes day.

Paint brush
watercolouring
the mountain.

Camp fire ...
poked for my thoughts
with a burnt stick.

Blue lakes
at heaven's end
dots arriving of the geese.

Fathomless drought
the farm rusts
in sunshine.

A red wind
around their sand castle
the sunset beach.

Star blessed
the river and I
at our old town bridge.

Becoming full
the summer weighs
the tree with mangoes.

Midday ambush
a magpie and I
near to her nest.

Upturned stone
still with the earth
my pencilled haiku.

Height of summer
the ripeness of the mangoes
on our neighbour's side.

Masking
a face of the devil
the birding fox.

The stick returns
with the dog
with the river.

Chalk dust
the weight-lifter's time
held in the air.

Breathless heat
the night hangs
in the scent of jasmine.

Sunset burns...
the dive of herring gulls
to the sea.

Buoy bells...
how untroubled its ride
in the swell.

Fruit bats echo
the shapes of the figs
becoming ripe.

Frosting
the cake-shop window
iced hot buns.

Sunrise sea
the waves pour in
from the light.

Paint easel
a leafless tree
frames the moon.

Orange dawn...
all the breakfast juice
I can swallow.

Verandah
feeling the dawn chill
wherever my sleep turns.

Poker night win
the clarinet solo
from a jazz band.

Summer breezes in...
a moon falls through
the window.

Sudden stop - -
the wind withdraws
from tumbleweeds.

First gin and tonic - -
after some rain
the chorus among magpies.

A winter wind starts it - -
willows lashing
the grey river.

What fantastics
my shadow has
with the camp's fire.

Telescope
out of infinity
the red plains of Mars.

Crescent moon...
in silhouette
the horse-shoe bay.

Greening
the tastes of the pond
waterlilies.

Eyes from the water
a crocodile's gnashing
frenzied soul.

abattoir
the twilight of stars
in silence.

Light circles out
perfectly
the swan's soft landing.

Rain steams off...
the picket wood fence
becoming grey.

concealed track
the forest breeze
tangled with bird song.

feather's fall
touched from the other side
a salmon's pout.

last bus home
moons in the puddles
overspilling.

lining
the waves
moonshine.

winter breaths
on the bird-bath ice
pecks of a magpie.

sunrise windows
music on dust beams
floats from the room.

beekeeper
how sealed the sun is
in his row of jars.

buds overall
coming through the garden
daughter and friends.

raspberry
my tongue more in memory
than this sweet delight.

father's shed
all his weekends spent
mostly in neatness.

delayed
in the curves of sand ripples
a red sunset.

grandma's garden
when my childhood
had a mother.

grandchild
with the wind-chimes smiling
ear to ear
.

summer winds
the stains of bore-water
on the tomato leaves.

magpies
the first tenor begins
the ode to dawn.

the new year
its first note
from our clarinet trio.

Easter hunt
the shape of the tot's mouth
with chocolate.

driving without haste
the shapes of a scarecrow
alone in the fog.

lake-side coffees
fetching some stars
to boil them.

foggy streets
the warmth of our bones
to walk in.

morning lingers
I lean with the tree
to bird songs.

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

barbed-wire fence
the tumbleweeds gathered
escape to the night.

listening to crickets
their songs and their pauses
from the stone well.

the full moon
down a furtive place
to the well water.

well water
imaging
the moon.

following the geese
the sun falls far
into the horizon.

he sees again
her tilling their herbs
without gloves.

last orange rays
letting the cratered moon
through my back door.

busy streets
the dodging hiss
of their rain coats.

open window
the tracks of my jazz vinyl
in the wildflower scent.

blue summer skies
our swings over the river
tied to a tree.

circles of the web
unwinding another thread
from the rear of herself.

the tidal mud
as we seek
her gold earring.

the fog floats
high heels and a whisper
comes from the alley.

gold autumn leaves
those fallen ' skeletons
for their rebirth.

winter fog
the drip, drip of willows
to the river.

in the well water
once in a blue moon
the moon.

in a great silence
before the snow slide
just the mountain and I.

first light
turning me the shadow
in the shade.

summer drought
taller each cruise
the river banks.

dusk joins the trees
in the eggs a moth leaves
her generation.

mum's singing
on the kitchen table
our homework stopped.

relentless drought
dust devils twirl in
the pale of the moon.

out of silence
magpies sing to dawn
of their cracking eggs.

dawn stirs
the moon the frost crackles
in a puddle of ice.

family album
after lunch mother asks
for help in her garden.

summer winds
the stains of bore-water
on the tomato leaves.

the peeled orange rings
under our hammock
' midday shade.

the unbroken orange peel
thrown over her shoulder
spells his initial.

these dark woods
my torch light no longer
on father's back.

busy corner
traffic light green
in their passing eyes.

winter rains
in the book-shop warmth
closing time.

the bridge rattles
a freight train lightly
across the river.

her strapless red dress
billows in the line'
our iced drinks.

in a solitude
the corners of the room
from a round table.

the old house creaks
the fire-side spits
I turn another page.

summer forest
leaving the chain saw to it
' the butterflies.

thrashing their turns
in our garden pond
the golden carp.

dawn solitude
the bay's lowest ebb
turning.

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

midweek oval
two limp balloons
bouncing together.

finishing a coffee
the crumpled letter
unfolds before her.

spring morning
our naked peach tree
pregnant with buds.

meteor at dusk
beyond the farm house
nearer the stars.

kitchen table
the scent of her wreath
untied with the ribbons.

garden pond
Aquarius moving
onto Pisces.

garden pond
Aquarius moves over
the gleam of water.

garden shadows
Aquarius sprinkled
on the gold-fish pond.

garden shed
showers darkening
the see-through rusts.

house auction
the weight of their hands
out-bidding us.

dusk begins
drawing Aquarius
out for the night.

in winds to-be-rain
whittling a branch
on my back-yard steps.

still life
the tram lights move
to the morning fog.

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

sunrise lake
in its solitude
nothing else to lean to.

sunrise sea
breathing the air
full of gulls.

mountain thaws
rollicking home
to the sea, to the sea.

snow falls
such afar away budding
to the cherry trees.

dawn stirs
songs in their brains
a bird at a time.

garden furniture
the weight that autumn
leaves behind.

swinging
in a moon glow
the swing and I.

shaking his bread crusts
back and forth
the school-yard magpie.

her birthday book
unfolds to its first page
a unicorn.

lawn mowing
I stir a wisp of fog
behind the old tin shed.

in autumn falls
dismounting the seat
of my pedal bike.

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

magpie songs
enjoying why
I came out early.

eucalypti –
following me to the lyrebirds
breaths of cool air

eucalypti –
under the new bark
the moth grub – scribbles

sunset spreads –
between swans on the scarlet
a sail boat – turns

she waits !
in the rush of breakfasts
her school lunch – packed

the storm left –
to the hill of stones
a brook – babbling

dawn rainbow
in the city of lights
the rain smells – rise

between towns –
in the rear-view mirror
a headlight –glares

her shower scent
through the rush of breakfast
Laurel – leaves

road kill-
in feasts of blackness
the ravens – caw

cracked path
home late
how often I’ve stumbled

cawing guilty…
a murder of crows
over the dead lamb

day off work
all morning how gentle
the fog drips! drips! drips!

10 o’clock stars
the dog relieves slowly
to return indoors

antiques shop
tree rings polished
for the year’s sale

cool on my cheek—
I let the butterfly
consider where next

butterfly farm
our visit stamped
all the way home

late with fog
the sunrise colours
the eucalypt’s buds

kitchen lights on
a magpie
praising the dawn

the cyclone hits…
in the moments gone
our banana farm

all day inside, out!
the hail storm
pings our iron roof

drought’s end
the creek fingers
into its pebbles

leaves flutter –
into our picnic canoe
a butterfly –only one

willows swaying
on the summer breeze –
the river flows – slowly

eucalypt –
in streaks of first light
two peepers – from the nest

‘til the kookaburras laugh
you have no reason
to look up for joy

brown winter slime…
fluttering a moment
an Oak leaf

our pet’s grave, lives!
show us climbing rose
all your blossoms out of it

sunflowers nod…
a sea breeze
slams the garden gate

an owl hoots…
the stream
carries its murmur

nursing home
our mother’s bruise
pink with rouge

eucalypt smoke
in our campfire tea…
the stars wheel

over-coating a chill
around my shoulders
street echoes

the beyond is not yet yours
this love that says
you should go back

I step away from
the long white tunnel
above the bed to fear of pain

auctioning
Father’s
shabby
house

all night poker …
for his drive home
street lights in drizzle

summer sweet salads
out of father’s garden
our sliced tomatoes

window corner
the spider’s young
rainbows with dew

blackberries after lunch !!
the purple grin
showing her little white lie

on our town roofs
up to the hills
a glaring moon-face

night winds
a little bit of the tree
a raven’s space

Light circles out
perfectly
the swan’s soft landing.

airing father’s suit
our shadows
return the touch

Eyes from the water
a crocodile’s gnashing
frenzied soul.

regatta
the river’s bend
zigzagged with sails

What fantastics
my shadow has
with the camp’s fire.

the river forks
from the left-hand side
honking calls of the geese

even some beauty
in my phone’s close-up
the crow staring back

our talk over blackberries
across the table
her sweet purple lips

First gin and tonic - -
after some rain
the chorus among magpies.

in our backyard
greening a summer wind
the grapevine trellis

autumn begins
a changing to the books
I take to read outside

ageing…
the last pie apples
our tree will bear

gentle waves
the tot points to go further
with her cutest grin

Height of summer
the ripeness of the mangoes
on our neighbour’s side.

their beach –
touched by first light
our two dogs – race

guessing the size
of a shooting star…
our dog slips his leash

Dawn rises
magpie songs unite
the Gum trees.

school vacation
as they refill their dives
into the river

descending honks -
to the ebb of tides
the pelicans –pulled

Dawn rises—
magpie songs unite
the Gum trees.

the moth’s
whole silent purpose
eggs to the forest

he finds most…
spilled on the beach
a dozen fish hooks

autumn burns
the smoke of backyards
streets away

Blue lakes
at heaven’s end
dots arriving of the geese.

clouds lift…
the bay tide
moves a driftwood

immense starlight…
my Zodiac turns
forgetting me

morning lights
the gulls focus still
on our dog’s chase

losing a daughter
to fifteen
in her friends’ way

the sun setting
upside down
gulls on the beach

beach so cold
the joy of an overcoat
walking at night

Banging winds---
my sleep
on the garden’s gate.

the sculptor’s nude
his model helping him
polish her

beach wind
no tracks to
the sea-gull’s huddle

in beach sand
high heels
in hand

bus stop shade
the old man flings
his apple core out

beach party
the moon in clouds
tattooing the sea

dawn solitude
the bay’s lowest ebb
turning

a returning tide
on the beach his hands
over the curves of her

teeming rain
the beach sand unable
to float the whale

summer forest
leaving the chain saw to it
… the butterflies

Eagle’s screech
an orange peel squeezed
into your face.

whispering your name
… in the hay loft
a cigarette flares

pools emerge
all the ebb
in gull cries

Red dragon wings
the boy’s birthday kite
in the park’s breeze.

rock pools
the moons in the slow turning
of the ebb

the old house creaks
the fire-place spits
I turn another page

Apple orchard dew!
this water on father’s trees
thought inside as I do.

her strapless red dress
billows on the line…
our iced drinks

without a surf
the sun in a shell
alive with rainbows

the bridge rattles
a freight train in lights
crossing the river

An owl hoots---
the stream’s murmur
agog with stones.

the unbroken orange peel
thrown over her shoulder
spells his initial

Steel sink ... cooling for us
a baked pie
beside its apple skins.

the peeled orange rings
under our hammock
… midday shade

The flame trees drip
and hour by hour
the street fog glows with headlights.

mum’s singing
on the kitchen table
our homework stopped

last orange rays
letting the cratered moon
through my back door

Summer garden
the grasshopper
to every shadow’s hand.

Easter hunt
the shape of the tot’s mouth
with chocolate

At the open window
hair waving
from the dresser’s comb.

grandma’s garden
when my childhood
had a mother

Seaweed beach
the tide’s wash
taking our prints out.

father’s shed
all his weekends spent
mostly in neatness

Family beach
building their castle
child’s play.

A bag of cow dung ...
strawberries
on the child’s plate.

In waves
their long journey over
Laurel’s breasts.

Her one-eyed doll
avoiding its stare
the neighbour’s cat.

Sunset beach
I raise my voice to call them
boys dragging driftwood.

A car space found
our beach towels breathing
last season’s scent.

Along the stormy beach
we often walk
waves retching their seaweed out.

Small waves
finally separating
the lover’s thrown rose.

Icy frost
cracking the river edge
the horse’s hooves.

boy’s jam jar
the just loosened lid
for his butterfly’s breath

Boy’s first telescope
the pockmarked face
of the moon.

Not aware
of the corn’s scarecrow
until the leaves rustle.

Almost dodging
a shadow’s leap
from the foot bridge.

Leaning all over father
replacing a wheel
on her doll’s pram.

Such grace in flight ...
the eagle so fierce
on the rabbit’s young.

Boy’s kite
climbing on the breezes
out of the park.

Enough dawn !!
you too brightly pale
all these stars from today.

Ascending lark
the marmalade cat
too thin from kittens.

The way the frog’s slither
is slimy
from the boy’s hands.

Blazing sun
anticipated this
the cicadas’ wall of sound.

Web ...
how the life in the moth
becomes a spider.

Dust storm
the farm’s drought
vanishing.

Winds tap
the hen house waits
in the fox’s shadow.

Warm kitchen
grandfather’s breakfast
in our hurried meals.

On the wall of graffiti
we pass at lunch,
nearly perfect ... a blue orchid.

Crow caws
deepening
the city’s fog.

This morning’s fog ...
I am swallowed in the park
with magpie calls.

Neighbour’s son
our ripe strawberries
fills his pockets.

Far horizon
in the breeze a magpie
pecks the scarecrow’s eye.

Mosquito
bringing the dog’s blood
into my sleep.

Homing pigeons
the eagle’s shape
out of the blue.

Sun blind
the mouse moves in and out
of the eagle’s eye.

Migrating south
between our boats , between our joys
more whales this year.

Apple tree budding ...
last year
hair to pull a comb through.

In meadow frost
the way the brumbies’ necks
cross each other.

Blue baby eyes
his mother’s milk
composing a burp.

Joined by snow
the field’s wildflowers
ragtime in a breeze.

Hot north winds ...
hosing her herb garden
she uncurls leaf after leaf.

Dry lightning
in the white-gum’s litter
leaves smoke.

Fog thickens
a crow caws louder
from the neighbour’s fence.

Tourist town
the local asks! lately
where have we been.

Catching a lift
from the wheat field’s heat
a wedge-tail eagle.

Buoy bells
in the fishermen’s thrown heads
a chorus of gulls.

The boy’s scooped in
cicada shrills
from his marmalade jar.

Garden pond
did the tiger moth just give up
to drown in the moon.

Our home for sale
sparrows peck the lawn
near auction’s end.

Doctor’s rooms
a tank of goldfish
taking their turns.

In and out
of the foster child
the family’s name.

Ripe corn rustles
turn me around
to the scarecrow.

Bathroom tiles
too many ; no not too many
tiny footprints in the talc.

Bring us your driftwoods
tides, ebbs from those unknown lands
bring them all face down.

Sunday afternoon
the merriment of ants
with a butterfly’s wing.

Summer’s end
the unsung cicadas too
beginning to die.

In the nursing home
my mother’s face
as I remind her.

Ripe cornfield
discovering at the centre
a scarecrow’s clothes.

Train doors spring open
the butterfly’s flutter in
finds me.

Video taped
cornered inside our space
the comet’s tail.

Every Wednesday
the priest brushing
the nun’s confession.

Pet song on the radio ...
too rushed
making their school lunches.

Winter’s about
following me around
with white breaths.

At midnight
shrieking bats shrieking
from the cave’s stone mouth.

Lukewarm
sunshine reaching
the lily-pad’s roots.

Old snake skin
in last year’s rings
along the track.

In the hills
the last train whistled
the town’s goodbye.

From the earth’s bowels
the smell of a drought
digesting the rain.

In forest
a cat’s tail swishing
around the fog.

Brushing past
the dog’s stick
into the river.

Interstate station
the train’s steam embracing
their hurried kiss.

When love was easy
grandmother’s lunch
over her lace table.

Back to my childhood
I wipe a bit of jam
from the tot’s lips.