A dirty word
waits for the chilling moon...
Suddenly, the full moon
pops up soundlessly. I was stunned...
There were days back in her prime
When better times embraced her kind...
Standing on deathway,
choking back tears...
While the red gums bloom
the honeyeaters...
The basics to live
was with the peeling off...
Do you think milk?
The medicine...
If we stroll along a beach made of umber sand
casting sand dollars back into the ebbing tide...
Look far beyond the distant edges
Of those jam-packed starry skies...
an open window,
bluish moon’s light is falling...
Mist spits its’ curse, tar-black thick
over the soot covered-shoots...
She can change her mind
like the weather, which is true...