MoP 31: Learner


Learner
Like a flop-foot puppy
exploring the world
a new bicyclist wobbles
wobbles
flies
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MoP 29: Waiting at the Station


Waiting at the station
The last train from Clarkefield
is thirty minutes late
but the night is mild
and clear
we are alone
in the empty carpark
we watch a wild cat
as it watches us
this pub-two-houses-and-an-auto-wrecker hamlet
must be holding its breath
as land is released to developers
and the ghosts of populations past
stir and rumble

MoP 28: Storm Warnings


Storm Warnings
The barometer tells it
so does BOM
in colour charts
and temperatures
but the best, most reliable forecast
is from the dog
who sits under my desk
and will not move unless I do
down comes the rain
flash the lightning blinds
boom the thunder cracks
I can tell when it’s done
because she relaxes
and releases something deadly
from the underdesk

MoP 27: On the Road


On the Road
As I was going to market
upon a sunshine day,
I met a horse as fine
as any was fed on hay.
This horse was wide in front.
This horse was wide in rear.
This horse was o-so very tall
I could couldn’t see her ears
Her mane was black, her tail was too
her coat, it blackly glistened.
Her hoofsteps were so very quiet
but you’d hear them if you listened.
I wished that I could ride a while
upon her tall, strong back.
That dream was hardly thought
when she vanished up the track.
Her gallop was like purring,
her tail flew high behind her.
I turned and followed as I could,
determined now to find her.
I never got to market.
I never found that dazzling mare,
but I remember every day
what luck to see her there.

MoP 26: Melbourne

Melbourne
 I love Melbourne, but the water in the bay varies only by 4 degrees winter to summer. (14- 18 C I think)

Beach feet
Hop. Ouch! Hop. Hot!
Why is it quite so far
from the towel to the water’s lap?
Ah! Cool toes
Beach feet
shiver, br-r
bursting from the ocean
race from water’s edge to the towel
Ah! Warm toes
Beach feet
race there and back
keep moving fast, faster
in the water, out and back
summer fun.

MoP 25: Somehow I have never imagined. A Found Poem


Somehow I Have Never Imagined: A Found Poem
I’m ranting ahead of time.
I am already becoming annoyed
about the drivers who are going to blind me
because they didn’t feel the need to clean off their cars.
(And, I haven’t even driven anywhere this storm!)
Three options:
clean off your car prior to driving,
hire someone to clean it off for you, or
DON’T DRIVE!