in a poem weather’s never weather, there’s something other:
behind that cloud, transitory; in back of sunshine, egg.
if it’s raining, it’s not raining; if it’s bright it’s harsh
if the valley’s brimmed with fog, well maybe…
CONTENT WARNING: This post contains some strong language and concerns domestic violence.
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roses rucked in rows to weather the weather. through the dreary pane farther off, togetherContinue reading
the Lumieres cranked their cinématographe
&
trains came, babies babied, horses tricked
Here’s Ava and Daniel reading 50 Google questions…
What’s tonight’s Moon?
What’s the reason for the Moon?
“It was a pretty brutal place, but there was no slavery in Australia.“
The Hon. Scott Morrison, MP,
Prime Minister of Australia
on Radio 2GB, 8 June 2020
it’s not my place
there are others here
with grounds
A red-whiskered bulbul (before)
head back calling
in the evening
in the neighbour’s olive tree —
‘wee-whit-h-h-h-h-who’ , ‘wee-wee-h-h-h-h-twuk’.
Peter Frankis writes 