Poem Category: Australian

lawn mowing
I stir a wisp of fog
behind the old tin shed.

A dirt road
hearing the trees, their wheeze
I start my walk again.

Busy corner
a man’s road rage
in his tight summer suit.

Ghost Gum valley
silence but for
the stones of the stream.

Wife moving close…
near the end of the wedding
their nervous vows.

Autumn
raked leaves loosened
then the lizard’s eye.

Bus stop seat
a brown bite
in the red apple.

Weight lifter
his tattoos strained
by the bar-bell.

Without the others
what pleasure is in one
blue curling foaming wave.

Following them down
on their frozen faces
the elevator jolt.