The stars departed like flocks

as the morning birds sang.

By the shore the sand warmed.

Far out the dark sea.

Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?

It was neither, but for the glory of God.

Hanging from the tree are green spiked seed pods.

Further away, clusters of gum nuts.

There is a gentle swaying.

Shadows move in patterns on the ground.

Blades of uncut grass flutter.

A warmth in my blood presses against my skin.

Fish swam under the pier

where the boys hung their lines.

A cool morning with sunshine.

Patrick’s mother is in hospital.

I’d spent some time showing how to play something on the KB.

He showed me some rap ‘walking’ – jerky but graceful.

‘Let’s see you do that walk again!’ he said later after my

not so successful attempt at it.

‘Do you want a fight?’ – standing in front of me, arms folded,

with an expression somewhere between straight and smiling.

Two red bars across the sky

enclosed within trees,

turning grey,

leaving glowing yellows by their trunks.

A gum tree with hanging bark,

feathery leaf cushions

and blue sky, becoming lighter towards its base.

A grass field moving towards it,

pale green and yellow.

Shadows against the fence.

The blinding sun above distant trees –

colourless, flat, already black

in its glare.

Twi-owwut twut twow

twowwwit

Two objects – an oval pebble,

patterned by grass shadows and sunlight –

a down feather, swivelling like

a compass.

In the wilderness you gave your love.

In land not sown you followed me.

Now I search for you.

Your face is pale but beauty rests

as mist upon a field.

Your heart a pearl encased in gold.

Your hair a sunlit shield.

My hair a stream of flowing tears.

My heart a wounded side.

My face a swan that bends in sleep

to seek his distant bride.

Wider than the sea,

deeper than your eyes,

my promised love for you

is broader than the skies.

Golden light on a balcony,

thick trunk and leaves

silhouetted before it,

a boundary of darkness.

Dust, iron, sky,

the serpent biting,

red limbs whitening to bone.

We set our eyes

on a pole of bronze

turning poison to honey.

The morning was made dark by rain,

waterfalls of ice and blackness,

pounding the concrete shelters and shrouding trees.

The afternoon light was pale, washed and tired,

the buildings were stained with brown,

the birds restless for light.

On the wall was a picture of China,

a dark blue lake walled by mountains, snow capped,

foreground, houses among the pines and rocks.

Distant arcs of space and time.