brush walk

brush walk

trickling down Berry's Creek on the Gore Cove Track

down in the sunshine

trickle and slip

follow the turkey trail

crept till

lens tendril of

mud boots

their bliss

to be afoot

hear moss and drip

lost words

let voice -- the singing air

I think you know the calling

walk out of the little life

into this magic complexity -- bush

where leaves have fallen for the street

(sandstone leavings, ivy twirl)

commute the track

as if no hours are required

it’s fronded, overhung with

all that’s washed this far

it’s under ledge

and blue beyond

time tricked from the clock

frames itself to picture me

alone, alive as naked as

just these lines

climb down

cross where dry

or later, wade

birds nest

pebble it in creekshine

be fern flung

only breathe to be

here down among the so-various fallen

so trickle down to the harbour