Summer comes to settle its weight on the southern hemisphere.

 

 

 


 
it is seen –
the shape of the cloud
when it was
breeze-wrinkled
my creek reflection
clear the headstone –
in time this breath also
summer clouds
the gannet's dive
a life without language
before it's done
what's left of me . . .
a half moon haunting clouds
took my breath away
moonlit sea
bound to me in this ditch
of ownership
receding tide . . .
my negative capability
left high and dry
after rain too
the sea has no colour
of its own
up, down
a leaf adrift
and not
ceaseless stars . . .
no end in sight
for the pathos