requiem for a brittlegum

Sweat drips down my face,
my back,
between my breasts.
Sawdust collects in my boots,
soft and grainy
between my toes.

hobnails and dressing-gowns

Halfway up the sitting-tree
I perch among the flitting bats,
a milky river of stars above.

Leaning back
with one leg swinging,
my boot a hefty pendulum-bob,
I wonder;
If I fell out of the tree
– without noticing –
might I miss the ground?

I am, after all,
like Arthur Dent,
in my dressing gown.

 

brittlegum blushes (Autumn colour)

Without a fuss,
the slender young gums
have shed their skins,
to stand smooth and pale.
Among them,
wide hipped
and thick waisted,
their mothers blush
before exposing their own
pale flesh to the chill air.

It’s the first day of winter, but it was a late and warm autumn. There are no native deciduous trees on mainland Australia, so no golden gown or autumn glory outside of the towns and cities. But some of the eucalypts, like the brittle gum shown, drop their bark. On the older trees it changes colour first, from silver to pinks and dark greys – our local autumn colour. 

Brittle gums II

Steadfast,
the stringy-barks
acknowledge no seasons.
But the brittle gums
have sensed summer’s end.
Their silver bark has darkened
and fallen away in curls,
leaving them naked,
smooth and white,
amongst their
rough and dark,
but stalwart,
companions.

Brittle gums I

Darkness flows up
from the gullies
and creek beds,
climbing the ridge,
ending the day.
The brittle gums glow,
like golden pillars,
reflecting the sky
in brief defiance
of the rising night.

a new tree

This is my latest painting project – it’s meant to be a brittle gum, which there are lots of in this area.  The trunk and branches were freehand, and I traced the leaves from ones I picked from trees outside. It didn’t quite come out how I wanted it, but I don’t mind much. The plan is for a wedge-tailed eagle next, circling up high. There are a lot of them around here, and I don’t think I will ever stop finding them extraordinary to watch.