Poem Category: Australian

our talk over blackberries
across the table
her sweet purple lips

a crow watches
the cop pass
the remains of a snowman

in our back yard
greening a summer wind
the grapevine trellis

autumn begins
a change to the books
I take to read outside

at dusk
and how the leaf falls sound
I no longer see

a summer breeze
leaving me to potter
about the herb garden

nothing else, all is drought
just the tumble-weeds
piled at the fence

summer kisses
the rain and I turn
to face each other

aging…
the last pie apples
our tree will bear

sun across our path
Laurel sits brightly
in front of the canoe