house auction
a bid from the telephone
raising ours again.

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.

late afternoon waves
on the red skyline
till the Sun sinks

train whistles closer
our embraces held in
the platform’s chipped paints

sudden spring showers
Laurel’s laugh ahead
all the run back home

in blue school mittens
she fumbles the key
to unlock her bike