In The Poetry

Remembering W H S

Come back once more and walk along the shore,
a Styrofoam container in your hand,
and search again through litter on the sand
for shells and seaweed. Start a new collection.

“There’s no such thing as rubbish,” you once said,
“only things we don’t know how to use.”
You had the gift for the unexpected find,
quick as [...]

Remembering W H S

Come back once more and walk along the shore,
a Styrofoam container in your hand,
and search again through litter on the sand
for shells and seaweed. Start a new collection.

“There’s no such thing as rubbish,” you once said,
“only things we don’t know how to use.”
You had the gift for the unexpected find,
quick as [...]

Summer of the Ladybirds

Can we learn wisdom watching insects now,
or just the art of quiet observation?
Creatures from the world of leaf and flower
marking weather’s variation.

That huge dry summer of the ladybirds
(we thought we’d never feel such heat again)
started with white cabbage butterflies
sipping at thin trickles in the drain.

Then one by one [...]

Tasmania

Water colour country. Here the hills
rot like rugs beneath enormous skies
and all day long the shadows of the clouds
stain the paddocks with their running dyes.

In the small valleys and along the coast,
the land untamed between the scattered farms,
deconsecrated churches lose their paint
and failing pubs their fading coats of arms.

Beyond the beach the [...]

Tune

When I came back from Europe late last year
a new tune kept running through my head.
It still recurs at odd times of the day,
haunting like a perfume or a face.
Its clean string of notes obsesses me.

I cannot write it down; I have no key.
I can’t translate it to another code.
I cannot even hum [...]

Summer of the Ladybirds

Can we learn wisdom watching insects now,
or just the art of quiet observation?
Creatures from the world of leaf and flower
marking weather’s variation.

That huge dry summer of the ladybirds
(we thought we’d never feel such heat again)
started with white cabbage butterflies
sipping at thin trickles in the drain.

Then one by one [...]

Tasmania

Water colour country. Here the hills
rot like rugs beneath enormous skies
and all day long the shadows of the clouds
stain the paddocks with their running dyes.

In the small valleys and along the coast,
the land untamed between the scattered farms,
deconsecrated churches lose their paint
and failing pubs their fading coats of arms.

Beyond the beach the [...]

Remembering W H S

Come back once more and walk along the shore,
a Styrofoam container in your hand,
and search again through litter on the sand
for shells and seaweed. Start a new collection.

“There’s no such thing as rubbish,” you once said,
“only things we don’t know how to use.”
You had the gift for the unexpected find,
quick as [...]