as the reed

as the reed sounds
for the clarinet
so
I speak for you
my silent son

Old Moon

old moon
reclining on Red Hill
reminiscing on
people and parties
that once mattered

The Anaesthetic

Emerging from
the anaesthetic
I weep
for all the babies
I will never carry

Deep Night

deep night
buzzing with silence
until at last
a single magpie
calls in the new day

spider silk

eyes and ears
wrapped in spider silk
insistent ties
to children
grown and gone away

tanka

rain slithers
down the glass -
poems drop
from pen
to creamy page

the artist's dream

Last weekend I was dazzled by Shazia Sikander's exhibition at Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art.


immersed
in colour and brushstroke
I float on
the shimmer
of the artist's dream

magpie

magpie
head on side -
why
have I come
this way again?

Cockatoos

wind-tumbled
flounces of feathers:
cockatoos
whoop on
updraughts of joy

Yee Peng

lanterns rise
on inky sky:
the old year
let go,
a new beginning

Last year's start

mist pin-bursts
fresh on my cheeks
as I plan
a future without you
in this new city

Trapped in language

word distorts
thought:
a prism that
bends and breaks
my beam of intent