a Summer Kasen Renga

Red Poppies  

red poppies
lean into steam
off the wet path

ab

in the fernery
fingers press sweating glass

fierce heat fades
evening twilight glows
a pink line

a fly stumbles
at a water glob

folding clothes
she drinks dark coffee
moon observes

the grasses seeding
green fruit swells above

midnight light
on watered garden
goat dung smells

four pink peonies a gift
sheets need washing

pinning damp silk
onto a clothesline
rags of love

forked over
the compost steams

a worm
the uneaten meat
a grey hair

the peopled world spins
cars stall in traffic

moon bright as frost
field of white goat skulls
intruder light

postcards from annapurna
clouds of breath hover

before dawn
we dread the heat
promised to us

a darkening sky
rain splatters fresh hay

green light
on the cherry blossom
a morning squabble

love song of dogs
soft applause of clouds

Present for you, Gran!
red eucalypt from
council tree butchers

colour wrinkles through clean wood
beneath the peeling bark

compose lists
to gather sparrows
seeds on lawn

so much to organise
too much to say

starfish legs
synchronised swimming
summer ladies' lunch

salt water in the harbour
obeys the distant moon

fishermen
stand off shore to sniff
wet weather

the station wagon starts slowly
its old dry cough

yellow light beckons
from an empty road
a cup, a table

fluttering wings of
a blind white moth

faint crescent
between the hospital
and heavy clouds

in Carlton leaves blow
a red and gold dawn

hope? dust.
accumulating soil
green augmentation

girl running fingers through hair
a tongue over teeth, lipstick

shaking with fatigue
she searches for her glasses
she can't see them

empties out her bag feeling
a fathomless sea rising

a breeze spills
into the valley
jacaranda carpet

her fingers ripple and lift
a new song, a new silence