Poem Category: Australian

midnight bats
still the fig seeds
to scatter

denting hail
still our cars
to be moved

sun tipped trees
still the butterfly
to move in leaves

sun tipped trees
still the snow ground
to walk home

stampede clouds
a lightning
joins the earth

backyard Maple
her bone naked autumns
of fifty years

beach dunes
the waves crash into
the sound of the gulls

butterfly farm
the ice-creamed child
begins our drive home

last sunlight
the weeds along the paths
I left to wither

I would compose
a butterfly riding
the nose of our dog