Oct
2014

Away, To Me.

It’s National Poetry Day, for once it’s the actual day for this country so I’m not just using another nation’s day as an excuse. I wasn’t intending to write a poem, but this almost came out spontaneously as a response to an email, so I thought I’d better scrub it, put it here and reply more sensibly. I’m not saying this is the definitive guide to child-rearing, incidentally. Just a facet of how I see it.
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Jan
2014

Twelfth Night

I miss
the pine smell
on the edge of sense
in the dark mornings, stumbling
to catch the plug stuffed behind the bulk
of a tree
whose fate it was to stand
mute in gaiety
in our living room.

Of this fate
it did not know.
It is a tree, and it knows little
but the endless grip of roots in the soil
and the catch
of endless winds through evergreen,
whistling
knife-cut needles.

Jul
2013

Eye Level

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We are crawling over rooftops
Sliding around aircon cans
Flightless beasts.

We drift with the low cloud
Skimming fingertips across gravelled roofs
Eyes fixed on the floor.

We are the thunderstorm, brewed
And stewed like tea
Too strong in a pot.

We are crickets, buzzing chirping
Singing in the grass
Of quiet greens.

We are floodwaters burst
Snowmelt swamping, stomping
Waves through streets.