Archives: Poem Gallery

Out of the windstorm
whistling
from the cave’s mouth.

First Gum leaf
on the knotty branch
tickling the breeze.

Family lunch
arranging thin ripe tomato rings
around the cool white plate.

A priest
sits
at the end of sins.

Iced drinks
the clothes-line billows
of her little black dress.

Washing-suds
cling to her elbow
our talk of divorce.

Autumn leaves
driving over
wet bends of the road.