Updated: Nov 10, 2022
The yin and yang
of silver and black
play on the liquid
inlet at dawn
reflection
sliding over tides of thought
a rippling
through ears and eyes
the soft slap and dip
of prow and paddle
finding rhythm
in water and mind
and an easing
but not to make easy
as I work the current
holding a line
past some royal spoonbills
that change legs like a child
needing to pee
glancing to the left
then right
feigning nonchalance
restless for me to pass
in peace
These fine leaves fallen from the cabbage trees bunched into the rusted drum, yellow-brown-grey and hopefully dry engulf a weak confused curl of barely escaping smoke as leaf filaments glow and smould
Getting a handle on this diabetes thing is no joke mate it’s as slippery as a bloody eel, or a big pot of boiled brisket. Sure, you can take away those cakes and biscuits and crap I’d rather have a ti
Oh, Ian, so suddenly you’re gone. These cold purple lips delivered denial through our twenty-five years together kissed the smokes sank deep the 19th hole with your mates cheerily asked for the bad ne