Sunday Trees

fallen 'banksia-man'

High on his Limb

high on his limb the banksia man stood in

for windmills

tilting target of a Quixotic Honeyeater

slain by age and storm

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Sunday Trees

banksia

Sunday Trees



(probably a grey gum)

Sunday Trees

melaleuca

The PaperBark

You are the poet’s tree, cantos and books, chapters and stanzas

are hidden in your layers;

Secret histories of Earth and Spirit

wind, drought, visiting fire and deluge.

Lovers inscribe their visions in your leaves,

war declared, birth announcements

and the mysteries of Hanging Rock and the Red Hand.

The oldest legends are buried deepest:

the sky arching, land erupting:    tree, blade and fauna;

Water receding and air coalescing from the void;

Brolga, emu, wombat and cockatoo record their genome –

even man, the infant in his chanting, slips amongst

Your pages.

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Once a Jolly Swagman

This chap always minds Ron's barbecue ...

Heaven

Where the land and the sea and the sky meet

from Bennett's Head

seduces me utterly.


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