“At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.” Pablo Neruda, Rain

the girl at the grocers 
checks her phone as she scans my veg
house, backyard frontage
a gif of the picnic table
adrift

the garden’s gone cambrian (maybe permian)
a froglet laps the waterbowl 
carrying another on her back
cheered on by 
a spawning chorus

the vines have left their beds
set up perimeters 
their triffid purpose
leaves like radar dishes 
tuned to the merest twitch

snails on my shoelace
snails on my window
snails carrying snails, building pyramids
— the Lord of Snail is come
promising change, promising many things

the sky’s never heard of hi-fibre
breakfastfood, Jesus or chordates
so lowers til it spills
washes away hills
the river grinds a new course

i’m a mud-covered thing —
a pair of stalky eyes
peering round corners
fugitive in my mudhole —
(for now) i assume nothing.

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Image: Four young nuns fishing, c. 1952, c/- State Library of Queensland on Flickr. A bit of fun on a rainy Sunday. Recently the east coast of Australia has experienced substantial rain and flooding, attributed to the La Niña effect, record high ocean temperatures and anthropogenic climate change.

And for something musical – here’s While My Ukulele Gently Weeps by Jake Shimabukuro. (The whole playlist is pretty fab.)