1216
1.v.23
4.121
the stone, another sky gift 
Gore
Cove Track series 
time crafted 
slippery days after 
here’s tall standing 
come to the creek’s small roar
we run
a thicket of shadow 
a bird’s nest 
voices high 
and the train 
and gone
moss and leaf are travellers too
a far sudden autumn it is 
stumps up 
each stone a map of ancient tides 
I lean
I myself the track 
and fall on 
like an object in orbit 
not quite down
though we touch
this one horizon 
the tree is ever reaching 
the tune is in the tree
 






 
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.