2680

high moon
down our street
the Maples falling naked

2679

glass house–
the tomato scent
a moment years ago

2678

high moon
Bogong moths migrating
suddenly … ten thousand

2677

high moon
a moth in the thrashings
a spider has stung

2676

high moon
bamboo leaves
slashing the wind

2675

high moon
my children
sniff the garden herbs

2674

high moon
icicles drip
the release of winter

2673

high moon
sparkled with dew
my little pots of bonsai

2672

cold back yard
our potted herbs
scent the rain

Poem 1332

Picnic with Laurel
touching her smooth skin she smiled
at my seemed folly.