John Bennett
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Blog
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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Treasures on our tōrō, 18 Sept
We were up at Oyster Lagoon helping our ranger put up signs (NSW NPWS is understaffed and underfunded)
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Hunting Wild Flowers, 17 Sept
a sound from my childhood, the hum of introduced honey bees foraging the hakea
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Hunting light, 15, 16 Sept
What stories did the Gumbaynggirr tell their children of these tiny technicians of light?
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Poets, image and ego
‘I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself’ Walt Whitman’s opening line to Leaves of Grass.
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