Barwon Heads
by Kitty Owens The camp-ground rule is Walking Pace Only. We walk away the argument in the car. Shush, calm down, both of us. Time now for the strange labours of camping. Tightening ropes, plunging hands into ice, cradling tiny…
Baw Baw Arts Alliance
supporting local Artists
Baw Baw Arts Alliance
supporting local Artists
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Wind, But Not In the Willows
by Allan Padgett So the easterly is blowing hard through the gum trees & local sky & it rips me from the sleep that is so hard to find. Transistor switched to on, News Hour from 4-5 am on the…
Y Niwl
by Peter Roberts Y Niwl means the fog in Welsh Gaelic For the Celts, my stock, the fog made all unaware of time. Today the high country in Omeo is cloaked in cloud. Smokey greys and green. No sharp lines.…
Glenn McPherson
wind-battered window – all week long a snail on the rattling pane while every train passes without you bent forward a boy and his father take off the electric guitar plate soldering-iron to the blue sky what is this the…
Jan O’Loughlin
ficus trees stand watch in the old asylum grounds the lunatics have left colonial buildings crumbling in the summer rain Callan Park, Sydney flannel flowers are points of light amongst banksia scrub fire-blackened and sodden with rain Garangal – North…
Margaret Ruckert
Tidal Enigma a tanka string hour after hour breakers rise and surge ever forward tumbling out of the blue a brilliant white foam invariably on channel markers and mooring posts a seagull, a pelican claim the latest news swaying palms…
Louise Hopewell
a tawny frogmouth on the no standing sign in this dead-end street unable to sleep I search for stars red dust kicked up by long legs chasing short ones the horizon wide… all my sister’s idea to pat that emu…
Meg McNena
cottage tumbling stone unrooved and unanswered skipped by lowing wind – vagrant souls evicted from shelter their bodies earned
Wendy Beach
we love shiny things just like crows love shiny things, home comes with trinkets – the curios of our lives in nests above the graveyard Karrakatta Cemetery, WA
Underground
by Marilyn Humbert The limestone outcrops at Chillagoe urge us to wander the caves before night herds the lost stars into constellations. On the descent cold coils around us, your hand the lifeline steadying my course. Our boots grind rubble…