Not yet drowning, not yet stone
my head is a round black shadow
circulating so much energy
and what does it come up with?
A picture of leaves, and a title or two
a love of scenery and trees, appreciation
for the sensual, the curves of sand,
blue flows, a taste for walking, watching
Mangrove Gerygones flit between branches,
attention on a rotten wooden tooth,
last trace from a thriving shipyard,
my extenuating leisure, in short,
the outdoor recreation so beloved
by 19th century architects of the asylum
even when patients asked, ‘What are we doing here?’
this made me smile
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