Tag Archives: walking

Poem 2014/18

the last four kays on foot plane ticket, tissue, a few coins

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Hinterland (VII)

the tent floor goes over the snake hole * smell of bushfire       I return to the world * dawn, half-awake, putting my feet on * dark waters       do the dead look up * a distant drone…       gully sky

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Hinterland (VI)

scribbles in my notebook       night chorus * the last of my water       that horsefly twitches in dirt * another memory excavated       my aching muscles * afloat, half-moon in blue       flash of kingfisher * napping…       a leaf falls endlessly

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Hinterland (V)

enjoying being lost       ducks in the rainforest * salt on my lips       only myself to blame * the cicada silently drowns itself       my eardrums, vibrating * between sleeps       the book of nightmares * almost disappointed to find the way out       … Continue reading

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Hinterland (IV)

reception on the knoll       xantho spikes * senseless murmurs of the forest       if I had cancer * glad I’m not a commando       freeballing * abandoned flight feather       I make a promise * to go back is also a choice       track … Continue reading

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Hinterland (III)

dry moss       the desire to drench it * green tea       dragonfly smacks water * between rock & root       almost comfortable * ant jaws work my elbow * through casuarina needles       a satellite

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Hinterland (II)

spectacleless       drops of light swarm the surface * behind fly screen       the mosquito’s whine * goannas grapple in sunlight       my white belly * stomach grumbles       a mushroom sprouts in the sky * my finger drips blood       cicada throb

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Hinterland (I)

descending into fern valley       a twig snaps * coming up for breath       tea water * voice of the whooping bird       I should’ve kissed her * switching off my torch       I enter second sleep * awake       flutter of wings

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Homo pedestrius

Two legs are a series of elegant falls: all progress depends on undoing what was done, one foot falling and then the other smacking dirt, phalanges spreading and springing back. This is the beauty of walking— to walk is to … Continue reading

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The Road

Sorting through my haiku from the walk, I’m reminded of the strange, whimsical moods I was in as I wandered alone across Japan. Some days — usually when the featureless road stretched out before me for hours on end — … Continue reading

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