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Poetry in motion

(on the bus in Canberra Australia)


Grey green rain

Winter grass


Fog shrouding

Black Mountain

Softening the

harshness of

Telstra tower

Bare tree limbs

reach up

Edging the lake

Ride ending

Get off

Go on


Reading Gary Snyder

Grey shale roof

Mountain over village

A few lines

Others go nowhere

Awareness sharpened

By thought and travel

Can we all be poets

If we keep moving?




Pain of cars upon cars

taking up tree space

Metallic invaders

destroying people and plants

Square standing building

Windows in shadow

Books upon books inside

protected forever

Will someone read them?

Why write if not read?

Why paint if not seen?

Why breathe if not loved?


A belt of fog

just below

the ridge

of the Brindabellas

Almost like mountains




Pink stripes

of clouds

at dusk

seen through

black silhouettes

Trees in winter


Pre-dawn fog, Tucacas, Venezuela beach

Waking up

to an all white world

Fog covering


No sky

No sea

A luminous silver-grey


Ghost outlines

of palm trees

Grey  lines

of waves

Edged with

white foam

The fog

burning off


before the tropical sun

Morning sun burning away fog, Tucacas, Venezuela


Thank you Mom

for encouraging us 

to get this apartment

Living with the elements

by the tropical sea 


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