Norfolk Island Pines

        Norfolk Island Pines*

        along the esplanade are dying

        the sea spray for so many seasons falling

        through the wind-time fade

        and secret clockwork of their frail branches.

        Brittle yellow needles carpet the parking bays

        a rust orange ochre

        that gnaws at the causeway pylons first

        and grows on the green lichen

        granite boulders of the island

        that has seen enough of sea-storming

        winter afternoons.

        I saw it too

        in the grey-laboured Clydesdale’s breath

        that pulls the horse-tram

        full of eye-sore tourists to nowhere

        there and back.

        Norfolk Island Pines

        sad

               lost ships of wreck.

*Victor Harbor

These poems are from my new collection IN THE APRICOT DARKNESS (view the cover and contents below in my recent posts). They are now being published individually, daily under 'recent posts' on my blog and will be available shortly as an eBook that can be read online or downloaded for free.