Tag Archives: rurality

Brittlegums III

Once again their silvered skins
have dropped in disorderly curls,
like shed gowns, pooling at their feet.


It’s the last day of summer, and the brittle gums are well into shedding their bark. First they go from silver to dark grey, then the old bark peels off exposing the new white bark underneath. It’s hardly a spectacular autumn change, but it’s a marker of the changing seasons still.      


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white light blazes down
from a sky of purest hottest blue,
drawing out sweat
that tickles, trickles,
slicking skin
and stinging scratches, Continue reading


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grim eaters

Death comes in darkness from below,
with claws and teeth,
snuffling and sneaking,
slipping under the wire, Continue reading


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a henhouse full of roosters

For dVerse’s Haibun Monday: Eagle. Our local apex raptors are wedge-tailed eagles, they stand up to 1.2m tall, have a wingspan more than 2m, and have been known to take lambs and small ‘roos.

My neighbour has the worst luck. Everyone out here keeps chickens, and everyone loses the odd one. But her chooks seem to have a life expectancy of under a week. She’s lost them to foxes (well, haven’t we all?) and to a neighbour’s dog, and the goshawks, and coxy… One time she got some fertile eggs, and hatched them in an incubator. From ten eggs, she got eight roosters. One of the two hens was killed by a fox, so she put the rest of the birds in my coop until she reinforced hers. My Muscovy drake killed the last hen, so I gave her back her roosters. Continue reading


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This is for Frank’s Haikai challenge #176: Hawk, and also in response to Dwight’s “The King”.  

 Hunger rides the wind,
watching for the flicker of
small life far below. 


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…and there were lilies: V. Christmas

A haibun this time (prose + haiku), but no photo because I don’t grow this type of lily. They’re a formosan lily or Taiwan lily, but we’ve always just called them Christmas lilies because they bloom around Christmas all along the coastal roads of NSW.  Continue reading

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fledgling III: rosella

Flanked by an escort
in full dress uniform
– blues and brilliant red – Continue reading


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tomorrow, we will make jam

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0900, 30C

The westerly that has flowed,
cooling and caressing,
lulling us through the small hours,
has warmed already,
heated by its passage
across the already baking land. Continue reading


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Cherry Season

Friday afternoon and the highway beckons,
but despite my impatience to be on my way
I am lured off the road –
by a cardboard sign on a dusty ute,
its block lettering as irresistible as any siren song –
CHERRIES Continue reading


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