high moon
in the frail light
a sick friend‘s garden

high moon
the mouse unshadowed
where the ripe fig fell

high moon
the whimper of a nightmare
in the child‘s turn

high moon
pulls at the driftwood
shared with the sea

high moon
the grandchild at the window
tracing some stars

high moon
the cruise-ship berthed
in party lights

high moon
the windmill retching
tastes of the earth

high moon
the city drains
uncorking their odours

high moon
another strawberry
Laurel‘s tongue

high moon
fireflies flirting over
our neighbour‘s pool

high moon
the bubbles of shampoo
in my children‘s hair

high moon
the pain winter holds
in mother‘s hands

high moon
in a forever
I will not see return

high moon
nearer our farmhouse
how the roof shine…shines

high moon
our teenager late…
the sudden phone off its head

high moon
the bag-lady‘s old pram
turning round the corner

high moon
reading her letter
my cigarette‘s glow

high moon
last train home
how my face looks looking out

high moon
the dart of squirrels
to the kid‘s tree house

high moon
a defect notice
behind the windscreen‘s ice

high moon
apple falls turning
the air to cider

high moon
the little town school
that father taught

high moon
my absent child
may well look to

high moon
the turtles walk around me
back to the sea

high moon
our bike rides alone
in black and white

high moon
only the geese honk of it
a fog filling the lake

high moon
with the pond frogs bloated
now they fight

high moon
the motel cabins
speared with frost

high moon …
their crispness tightening
in the apple skins

high moon
a buttercup pushes out
from a ribcage

high moon
buzzing on the beach
a phone none answers

high moon
apple trees turning
the air to cider

high moon
soaking an apple tree
moving to the next

high moon
a river runs-off
with the river

high moon
a defect notice
behind the windscreen's ice

high moon
bats leaving the fig tree
to stir another

high moon
down our street
the Maples falling naked

high moon
Bogong moths migrating
suddenly … ten thousand

high moon
a moth in the thrashings
a spider has stung

high moon
bamboo leaves
slashing the wind

high moon
icicles drip
the release of winter

high moon
sparkled with dew
my little pots of bonsai

high moon
the dart of squirrels
to the kid's treehouse

high moon
on the pollen sparkles
of an after-rain

high moon
last train home
how my face looks looking out

high moon
she opens the chocolates
his gift for a lie

the high moon
and his whispers
loose in my hair

high moon
the faces of sunflowers
turned in a breeze

high moon
reading her letter
my cigarette's glow

high moon
side by side
a sea-snake in the driftwood

high moon
the bag-lady's old pram
turning round the corner

high moon
how charged is the confetti
in the church-yard wind

high moon
slamming the side gate
the wind in my head

high moon
putting the dog out
underclothes iced on the line

high moon
the rest of the henhouse
going the ways of a fox

high moon
the paths it crosses
to sail overseas

high moon
the whimsy of the mists
under the orange trees

high moon
our teenager late-
and off its head the sudden phone

high moon
the rain holding it
held in the mud

high moon
nearer our farmhouse
how the roof shine ... shines

high moon
Laurel on her pillow
cradled by light

high moon
my selfie
of both our faces

high moon
the pull turtles feel
in their shells in the sand

high moon
in a forever
I won't see return

high moon
our car tilting down
to the distant valley

high moon
the pain winter holds
in mother's hands

high moon
the river gives tongue
to the mouth of the sea

high moon
the light of a white moth
flitting between gardens

high moon
the bubbles of shampoo
in my children's hair

high moon
on a framework of clouds
tattooing the sea

high moon
the wind on a rope swing
over the river

high moon
fireflies flirting over
our neighbour's pool

high moon
rock pools emerging
an ebb at a time

high moon
our talk of divorce
taken outside

high moon
on returning tides
the seeds of islands

high moon
in the ten thousand scents
exhaled by the earth

high moon
the railway tracks
leading to rust

high moon
the well water
too deep to raise

high moon
geese forsaking
their father lands

high moon
turning the corner
an infirmed friend

high moon
where the garden rusts
the wheels of my bike

high moon
the city drains
un-corking their odours

high moon
right where the lake is
a snow-topped mountain

high moon
still shadows
until an apple fell

high moon
the old stone of Buddha
surrounded with Jasmine

high moon
letters found seeming
our mother eloped

high moon
the wind-mill retching
tastes of the earth

high moon
the cruise ship berthed
in party lights

high moon
following the train
the bridge's silence

high moon
the grandchild at the window
counting some stars

high moon
falling through our windscreen
onto the next town

high moon
just under the sea
in a sway of kelp

high moon
where the river turns
the dingoes howling

high moon
a splash of the Koi
where a nestling fell

high moon
the mouse un-shadowed
where the ripe fig fell

high moon
in the frail light
a sick friend's garden

high moon
just tumble-weeds passing
the barbed-wire fence

high moon
in returning journeys
the cries of geese

high moon
a moth flutters
between our faces

high moon
a stream of light
bubbling with pebbles

high moon
spring pollinates
on the breeze

high moon
all the still-born
becoming bones

high moon
a pale rainbow
in the waterfall spray