Newcastle
Sunday
today I’m reading
Andrew Burke then a river
sings
tales of the village
winding the stories of China
back into my magpie garden
picking up strewn bark toffee
from the tree to pile for skinks
leaning forward
I am a word keen
for the rangy son
who visits
in the cool
I love it, dear Kerri.
ReplyDelete(As it so happens, right now I am deep, far too deep, in a strange essay about my living in China and my return to Oz. I notice the electronic bin, or the delete button, has started to light up by itself...)
I will die for that last verse
ReplyDelete