We celebrate Yule,
the full moon,
eclipse and Grand Cross.
My friends are feasting.
I’m alone
with my own magic.
I chose my own home
my garden,
my ways old but new.
Across town, my man
settles down
in his white sick-bed.
He shall recover.
One week gone
my old aunt left us.
I’ve scented the bath.
My new robe
is purple, hooded.
I shall go outside
take my wand
and gaze on Her face.
I’ll move to let go
the outworn
and invite the new.
Tonight we welcome
new healing
and a place of peace.
26 June 2010
8 June 2010
When Tony Came Back
When Tony came back to Murwillumbah
visiting from his present home, Thailand,
decades after his hippy years here
all he wanted was our oldest café —
that downmarket place with the stale cakes
and the benches hard on your bottom.
We have alfresco dining now along every street,
cuisines both exotic and modern, French pastries
and very good coffee. But he craved nostalgia.
It used to be the only place in town, he said. (Long before
my time.) They’d come in from Nimbin, Kunghur or Uki
for non-organic cake and urban conversation.
That was when Byron Bay was a hamlet, and before
Tony packed up and left for Melbourne, disillusioned
with rural life. Now he lives in Bangkok, and is nostalgic.
visiting from his present home, Thailand,
decades after his hippy years here
all he wanted was our oldest café —
that downmarket place with the stale cakes
and the benches hard on your bottom.
We have alfresco dining now along every street,
cuisines both exotic and modern, French pastries
and very good coffee. But he craved nostalgia.
It used to be the only place in town, he said. (Long before
my time.) They’d come in from Nimbin, Kunghur or Uki
for non-organic cake and urban conversation.
That was when Byron Bay was a hamlet, and before
Tony packed up and left for Melbourne, disillusioned
with rural life. Now he lives in Bangkok, and is nostalgic.
S
I never ask about him.
The shadows begin to recede
and the silence becomes peaceful.
I am only a little curious now.
Perhaps it’s assumed I forget,
as I never ask about him.
I have not of course forgotten,
but I give him scant space in my mind
and the shadows begin to recede.
The love of family and friends
is a nourishment. So are the trees.
The silence becomes peaceful.
(A cascade poem, as seen on Poetic Asides)
The shadows begin to recede
and the silence becomes peaceful.
I am only a little curious now.
Perhaps it’s assumed I forget,
as I never ask about him.
I have not of course forgotten,
but I give him scant space in my mind
and the shadows begin to recede.
The love of family and friends
is a nourishment. So are the trees.
The silence becomes peaceful.
(A cascade poem, as seen on Poetic Asides)
5 June 2010
Three lunes
Purring pussycat
all night long
she sleeps in my arms.
29/5/10
*********
On our verandah
butcher bird
sings to greet the sun.
4/6/10
*********
She goes away,
wanders back for a look.
Already it’s changed.
5/6/10
all night long
she sleeps in my arms.
29/5/10
*********
On our verandah
butcher bird
sings to greet the sun.
4/6/10
*********
She goes away,
wanders back for a look.
Already it’s changed.
5/6/10
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