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Narnia in Jaaningbirrany, Sept 28
like the word silence, they don’t have a real existence
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Forest and garden, 27 Sept, a first day
The first Iris to bloom splashes colour in the sombre garden of the Seven Sages.
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Every day is worth a poem, The Marina, Coffs Harbour, 24 Sept
. . . trapped behind bars and inside a poem, the calligraphy chiseled
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The daily lust for gold, 20 Sept
I like a backbone, streaked with gold, a solid start to Australia.
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First day of lockdown eased, Sept 11
The sky is that sublime blue borrowed twenty years ago today
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One day leads to another, one poem to the next. Sept 10
Water has its own inventions, its own logic . . .
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