Beneath the War Memorial Shrine
Beneath the War Memorial Shrine earth has been planted out with red salvias. Now like crimson candles they swarm...
This is the soft brush
This is the soft brush with sky and land where colour fixes summer almost as an idyll...
Sour sobs smear
Sour sobs smear the once green morning hills. Warm yellow butter thick by afternoon...
Along this garden path
Along this garden path King Alfreds float in a cold mist of afternoon- the only sun. Each morning ...
Sunlight the colour of cold straw.
Sunlight the colour of cold straw. Now rain begins and has its own strange calligraphy on moving windows...
Silver air is crystallized with ice
Silver air is crystallized with ice a numb biting suspension of cold. The pine at the road-corner of the paddock...
Upon this paddock
Upon this paddock it has rained all morning here and late into the day and dark where things without interference...
Good Friday
Out from white bricks of the church, at the junction of orange clay and a neglected border garden ...
Now is the time of the crab-apple
Now is the time of the crab-apple small coals of fire beneath the frost-cracked panes of winter. Whoever...
I don’t want to live outside of my garden
I don’t want to live outside of my garden as I don’t want to live outside of paradise ...
