The Yeti’s Wife
by SUZI MEZEI I’m out of my depth – I don’t understand the snow. I’ve cocooned my invisible body parts in wads of tension, just in case the arctic gust cuts through these borrowed thermals. I’m unsteady in my boots;…
by SUZI MEZEI I’m out of my depth – I don’t understand the snow. I’ve cocooned my invisible body parts in wads of tension, just in case the arctic gust cuts through these borrowed thermals. I’m unsteady in my boots;…
by ROBYN CAIRNS curled amongst coastal grasses a sand dune fairy arranging wildflowers a lost city florist intersection of east and west…… nature our conduit stories travel between sky and sea underneath Kilcunda bridge we touch soft bursting seed pods…
by GLENN MCPHERSON Three lousy pumpkins off three vines, for winter. Smoke won’t make up its mind. This morning We found a waterhole no-one has drowned In yet. There was a flat stone that the poor-man Who sleeps rough, further…
by ROHAN BUETTEL (Tree Notice … I am a healthy veteran fig tree (ficus virens) … Thanks for loving Brisbane’s trees.) Near the financial heart of a river trade where three ways meet, a green cathedral cleaves. The tower figs…
by FRED DUNCAN Today we harvest the olives. The trees are heavy with fruit, Green and purple, crimson and black, Like pearls with their lustre, Absorbing and reflecting the autumn sun. Our fingers like crabs, Combing the silvery leaves, Searching…
by PETER ROBERTS She was never fooled by his parting kiss. When he was out it was easier on her and us – the neighbours. No screeching arguments or smashing of vases and worse. Her sobbing breaking the calm of…
by ALLEYNE HALL From my father’s war diary, 4 August 1917: Sergeant Leslie John Hall I feel terrible – I can’t explain! Will I see my wife and child ever again? My thoughts never leave them: their faces are always…
by JO McINERNEY Noise and smell, the dip and rattle of trams on tracks set in bumpy tar. The clang of bells and swell of voices in a lingo grim-faced women did not approve. The language of the Pope but…
by MARILYN HUMBERT From the porch the grey light of dawn bruises limbs heavy from restless sleep: night unable to quell yesterday’s heat. A kookaburra’s dry-throated croak echoes as the sun’s flames lick the horizon. Over the fence three thin-ribbed…
by AMANDA ALLAN Deep indigo, bright crimson, Gold lined auburn. Mirrored perfectly, By wet sand and sea. Mauve mountains beyond. Chill, damp salty air. Crisp. Cool dry sand engulfs my feet. Dog and I entranced, Mesmerised. Incredible. Stare, photograph. Brilliant…