by DAVID BRIESE

only my footprints
soft traces on golden sand
salt-tanged wind and crashing surf
am I alone
if the sea speaks to me

barramundi lurk
beneath mangrove shadows
water dark and still
fishing in the Kimberley
crocodile eyes watching

smouldering campfire
dry leaves crackling underfoot
the ember ignites
soon bright flames overhead
red demon on the loose