the best part of the day was taking the dogs out. Gemma is small and brown. She is part Corgi (her legs) and part Joy. She loves to run around and around in great circles over the grassy hill and back again. Dooley is my Mum’s fool of a poodle. He is tall and thin […]
they chew through silverbeet nibble the petals of the calendula & sip the sparse early morning dew hypervigilant. hyperactive. biomechanical eating machines – a-whir and click-flicking through the garden & into my sleep
23 years ago, we are at the edge of the Kuranda Rainforest track. Outside, there is only glare and heat and damp. The morning sun bites hard and hot. The bitumen is sticky with heat. The air is so wet that I breathe heavy from the short walk from home. And the blazing song of […]
Coiled tight around her beating heart she ventures forward. With the weight of all heavy on her back she scribes the world in silver.
the ocean – here a response to Haiku Horizon’s prompt – Ocean and with total respect to and in awe of Toni Child’s Where’s the Ocean?
1. at the heart of our solar system, a yellow dwarf star, a hot ball of glowing gases 2. its gravity holds the solar system together – keeping everything from the biggest planets to the smallest particles of debris in its orbit 3. the sun orbits the center of the milky way galaxy, bringing the planets, […]
through closed lids: molten gold – sunkissed bouncing off Melinda J. Irvine’s sunlight
We are walking in the forest. It is cold and softly raining, but we are well dressed for the weather and the dense canopy above reduces that gentle rain to a fine mist. I am feeling happy and carefree, I want to skip and jump. You seem contemplative, quiet. After a few minutes we settle […]
falling rain. frog sings — in my remembering. almost forgotten: the frog cacophony.
a new canopy unfurls & butcherbird practices her song response to haiku horizons prompt ‘leaf’