Pauline Cleary
that shining morning grey-green leaves glowed stage-lit above drifts of fog my bedroom window a screen in my garden Brazilian Cloak Flower dips to turn its face your red coat disappears into the taxi
supporting local Artists
supporting local Artists
that shining morning grey-green leaves glowed stage-lit above drifts of fog my bedroom window a screen in my garden Brazilian Cloak Flower dips to turn its face your red coat disappears into the taxi
eyes glued to screen selecting cheaper plums tapping red box loud barcode beeping plastic note rejected eyes shut black to black messy sheets pushed aside crickets drone hands flapping, head buried mosquito next to ear
quiet country road with home somewhere far away dusty smells of burnt popcorn, wattle flowers memories rushing back
by FREDERICK HAYES As the younger membersPrepared for a summer of funThe old man carried a scytheOut to the verdant meadowAnd stepping his way downThe glade and back he mowedThe long grass with a lithe graceAs the late spring sun…
by FREDERICK HAYES We paddled diffidentlyAlong with the othersAlways awkwardlyEmbarrassed by ourLack of coordinationMindful of the milesAnd the bruised fingersCompeting with achingMuscles for our attentionWhilst pristine MainePaced along beside usQuietly observing ourUneven progress downThe water’s pathwayUntil the stream widenedAnd the…
In Retrospect a tanka string on a path beside a sheltered bay at Robe where seagulls drift… this calmness within in the ruins of my childhood home swallows nest among the restless ghosts of laughter and tears from the rubble…
Touring Victoria a tanka string see trees embroidered with flowers and fruits under clouds, scattered like designer cushions … nature’s outdoor room glancing through a chance hole in a fence I’m like a spy rewarded with secrets … the vast…
walking through memory lane past Merri Creek — how she sniffed and explored every smell and sound balcony breeze … I watch the distant blazing lights of MCG still vying with stars the twinkling horizon of the city neighbourhood cafe…
I never saw you whole just what was left of your home a giant turtle shell your Mission erased by beach-side fire I’m sorry I met only your bones Old Mapoon, Queensland
moonlight peeps through the blinds closing my eyes a possum chuckles near the window summer days in the mulberry tree with purple fingers stains of the past that won’t wash out under the stars waiting for the min min light…