Tag Archives: bushfires

flood moon; toad; morning commute, still

The Tuesday dVerse prompt this week was “flipping meanings“:

Flood moon

The round orb,
washed white by rain,
floats high in the stream.
It is a record
of what has been.
It asks a question
about what was lost.

Original:
Bushfire Moon (April 2020)

A thin crescent,
bloodied by smoke,
hangs low above the ridge.
This is not a portent
of things to come.
It is a statement,
of what is here. Continue reading

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smoke haze

the chainsaw roars,chain_saw
drowning out the cicadas

first a wedge to direct the fall,
then slowly, a long slice, until
CRACK
and the tree tilts, then tumbles Continue reading

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a stub in the night

Drawn from the depths of sleep
by a plaintive call, Continue reading

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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. Continue reading

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bushfire moon

 A thin crescent,
bloodied by smoke,
hangs low above the ridge.
This is not a portent
of things to come.
It is a statement,
of what is here.
Written a few months ago, when we were constantly ready to evacuate our bushland retreat. There is a downside to a tree-change. 

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