Poem Category: Australian

river Gums
the sound a rope swing
carries me back

winter trees
their veins in the moonlight
connected

in fog
the Mosque’s last call to prayer
along our street

being alone
with the fog
our car on the bridge

sitting up straight–
the tuck-in sounds
at grandma’s lunch

late sunset
a tiger moth brushes my face
in the shadows

being late
on the crunch of our gravel
a visitor calling

ebb tide
the life the gulls take in
from the rock pools

solitaire
a pane of moonlight
plays with my cards

across temple grounds
the lawns pecked
around us