Blue Poles suite Jan 12th
The world is blue, its sand and leaves, this river
and the sea are all blue, but the sky is darker,
a couple of stars are late to leave. I sit on driftwood
waiting for the sun – water skims the available light,
a pink mist effervesces inside the template of cloud,
a vast proscenium arch on the edge of the world
with the forest murmuring behind me.
I close my eyes to enter an arcade of rough song
from Drongos, Wattlebirds, Silver Gulls,
the sea’s relentless roar is a backing track
for the incoming tide pouring patterns,
wash riffling the sandy sides of Deep Creek.
I’m immersed 360, but not for long
the scene is much too sublime, even without
mountains or canyons, crevasses or palaces.
I’m beachcombing small banksia pods, walking wires
and the ocean’s inhabitants who are turning up dead:
a fish head, a small shoal stranded, rope fed through
their gaping sockets perhaps bait fish lost overboard.
Five boats wallow out at sea catching death we eat
– these days peak season is a brief framing device.
Seagulls play chicken on a small ephemeral sand spit,
Paramedics worked to save the lives of two children pulled from the water at Valla Beach today. 12th Jan 2014 5:45 PM