On turning away
by PETER ROBERTS The great rivers of East Gippsland pass by like an avenue of honour. Nicholson, Mitchell, Tambo, Snowy, Bemm and more. It is their determination we admire most – to cut through rock and clay, taking no backward…
by PETER ROBERTS The great rivers of East Gippsland pass by like an avenue of honour. Nicholson, Mitchell, Tambo, Snowy, Bemm and more. It is their determination we admire most – to cut through rock and clay, taking no backward…
by PETER ROBERTS We are all refugees. His pipe etched a halo of Champion Ruby fumes that even the blast of the Roaring Forties couldn’t displace. Why did she leave him? Rising, he paused to watch the fairy prions and…
by PETER ROBERTS I undertake this ritual each night post the dishes seated on the rendered balcony a rhapsody of bougainvillea below as the sun slowly deconstructs into the calm of the Arafura Sea across which…
Peter Roberts is an Australian poet who resides in Melbourne. He enjoys poetry that bounces and surprises, and that most of all is accessible. Peter has been published in a range of national and international journals, most recently W-Poesis and The Beatnik Cowboy. He…