Moonstones
by Marilyn Humbert on weary wander west dusk cleans her rouged cheeks ready to take the stage with the moon and stars in luminous perception flickering stippled shadows at furthest point from home on a weathered lava vent we stop,…
supporting local Artists
supporting local Artists
by Marilyn Humbert on weary wander west dusk cleans her rouged cheeks ready to take the stage with the moon and stars in luminous perception flickering stippled shadows at furthest point from home on a weathered lava vent we stop,…
by Hazel Hall stoking the stove— her aunt’s and mother’s weary eyes— their work-worn hands— seven kids to bathe and bed before time of their own— ‘skin the rabbit’ they say— girls first— stripped one by one— slipped in the…
by Celeste Brittain night falls on the riverside board walk reflected in water a cathedral of stars deep, luminous glistening out of reach a hum like an engine – water crashes against rocks we shine torches on seaweed, and walk…
by J F GARROW They are all walking past this ute parked up outside the farm and noticing a dead lamb alone on the tray of the ute as they walk past. They mostly keep on walking past the ute…
by DIJANNE CEVAAL There is a building a two sided brick structure with a roof. There are benches a slatted arrangement bolted to the walls. There is an eating facility a wooden trestle table with bench seats. There are lights movement…
by Agi Dobson Golden elms, poplars Oaks 100 plus years old whose vast lower branches reach horizontally as wide as the tree is tall all their leaves bright – orange, brown, red, yellow against a brittle-blue sky like wading through…
this a test line this is line two with spaces in front This is the last line
by Nicoletta Glod Blues clouds are passing slow Eyes black frames Doors of spells Soul moving shapes Pigtails of hope Rained on the down path The sky castle Lift soul stones Twisted twigs and rain Can’t stop The tempest flight…
by Yvette Stubbs I get up, fall down Breathe deeply, hold on Pretend I’m on the deck of a boat Heaving in a storm drenched sea I walk tall and short Side to side, stagger, sway Rise with the upward…
by Yvette Stubbs Dusty ant hills of once vibrant oil paint His easel, a padded chair His last painting a man on a ski slope, that barely changed that year This painting will always be his canvased unfinished symphony Two…