night vision —
the same empty page
soaks up light
February 2014
lingering heat . . .
eyes close to sustain
the sunset
summer haiku
yawning doggerel
sprawls the page
tuareg dusk
a caravan of clouds
from the west
Monday
the last quarter
not given
stillness —
a humid night thickens
in my head
summer clouds tower
from the orchestra pit —
woodwind section
utterly spent
the smudges of lipstick
at sunset
failing light . . .
my feet outrun the dust
of another town
summer's end
the morepork gives out
an aged sound
after dark
more than just echoes
the cicadas
end of summer . . .
light grows heavy with heat
and cicadas
withered fields . . .
a corporate think tank
traps the rain
joyful decade . . .
the undercurrent
of cicadas
suckling child . . .
silence gathers
within her
willows
in a foreign tongue
word the wind
moon-haunted sky —
a night bird sounds out
that which was
day moon . . .
the gap between shot
and victim
white noise . . .
cicadas flesh out
summer
late mail . . .
I catch a whisper
of snow
first light . . .
I awaken to a dream
of myself
sound of water
a child counts tadpoles
on one hand
empty glasses
amid protestations
of love
moonless night . . .
the persistence
of nothing
war rumours
a wood pigeon
moves tree
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