Poem Category: All

Beneath the Gum trees

father‘s tin shed

rusting his tools

Bees buzz the flowers

before I can call out

the child steps back

New teacher

this year how my violin

has sweetened

A flash storm

no where for both of us

but Laurel‘s umbrella

Ending my apology

the fountain pen blobs

her photo facing me

A rock climb

brushing my shadow

the tumble of a stone

Late night drinks

her flicking red hair

at his jealousy

Girls picking tea

their rustling saris

silky as their songs

The chairman‘s pen poised

over the merger contract

ice melts in our drinks

Garden pond

the frog slide silent

from the lily-pad