OUR ORGANIC UNIVERSE
WOOD
ANCIENT TIMBERS
I could climb trees like no-one else when young, and the dense smell of each tree’s nourishing sap stuck to my hands, nostrils but also deep inside my memory. I have to work them out.
A WOODEN UNIVERSE
“Oh, it’s a tree”, and they walk on.
I can’t help but to stay and stare.
FOLIAGE
I hear the echoes of “chop, chop, chop”
when I walk into a forest of tall beings
and hope never to hear the endless chainsaw within these cathedrals
COUNTRY
There, in the distance along the edge of the world,
the line of squiggles and blobs standing braced against the distant wind
that’s a memory of my Aussie country