Poem Category: Australian

mad December night
denting car yard hail
to start the week’s sales

grandma’s lunch
her pain knuckled hands
setting the table

between the trees
a tiger moth
climbs the sunbeam

grey mist
late in the dawn
with no movable parts

the garden gate
closes after me
brushing Frangipanis

car-tyre swing
grandpa’s the hand
that moves us

stars
in the light of each other
fill our sky

sunset mirror
the geese push aside
the light of the lake

wind
plucking roses
from the moon

of homework and nights…
of books at the table
in ink-well stains