Dark walls


Dark walls carved in the heart,

binding the light outside, love’s compass

pointing towards north, avoiding shipwreck,

figures of history laid on the walls.

The garden stretching westwards from the hilltops,

the lake reflecting the sky.




They fought at the junction

of rivers flowing from exile

Brother against sister


To sense the voice of the wind

and trace the borer’s path

in the leaves


The sun sent her leprous

the spit of her father


Alone, the sand dried

her wounds and blew

in the well of her weeping


Cold autumn day


It was one of the first cold autumn days.

A wind had sprung up around noon

and smoke was in the air from bushfires.

In the late afternoon the sky had

a clear, distant look – with shades

of pink in the east.

The trees were cold and delicate

against the horizon.


A brother


Like the spring clover his life came,

one among many, a brother.

The sun and new moon and dancing

bees all glimmered on his flowering.


Some days the rain fell, awakening

the grass in rich green, and feeding

the hidden tentacles of weeds.


And when in the heat the clover turned brown

he shared in their suffering, and daily

as more of the field darkened,

his tears lay fresh on the ground.


The Sea


The harbour looked out

into the dark sea. The lights

of distant ships were speckled

across the ocean, single lonely

fires of human life. The bay

was filled with the roar

of unheard blackness. Nearby, the

lapping of water against the pier.