by DIJANNE CEVAAL
Walking along a path
through recuperated bushland
Small birds sass and chirp,
dancing in the shrubby undergrowth
Dew drops glitter up high in the native cherry,
nature’s tinsel
Fungi emerge from the underworld,
briefly dazzling in their skirts
They hint of an inverse universe
reflecting the lace canopy above
On misty mornings,
a sense of otherworldliness embraces
Sounds dampen and hover,
lower to the ground
Gum leaves lay scattered
colour and shape underfoot
Amber gum drops slide
from the wound on my favourite tree