Tag Edition4

by Andrew Hede Incessant cacophony of unseen insects: pulsating rhythms, syncopated percussion, staccato strumming of cicadas interrupted by footstep vibrations triggering a Mexican wave of silence. Frenetic chatter-songs of excited birds: kookaburras raucousing, lorikeets shrilling, macho mating call of a…

by Jan Napier While I was out it hatched split and quit its chrysalis on a first leaf dull wet wings folded to a thorax boxy and squat. lumpen stubby moveless till moonlight wrote silver on russet limned antennae fanned…

by Marilyn Humbert Capertee Valley air is still. Insects scatter as we wander sun glazed sandstone escarpments. Hazy eucalypts along the line of sight draw eyes to the summit. Boots scuff roots, scrabble pebbles. Native bees hover above a patch…

by Tanya Dawes I go after my muse my Beatrice armed with a mustard seed a library and skull I peer inside my inkwell. At it’s frozen depths I sketch evil’s icy reflection write my way through the syntax of…

by Jan Napier bucket upturned. ash cloud. flue open. a match to crosshatched kindling, violet white flame lizard tongues twigs. chimney trickles blue. ceramic portals pried aside, another chunk thrust among the half-charred. kettle set to one side wisps. porridge…

by Marilyn Humbert Roused by the taunt of gulls bag and bucket shouldered they amble to the muddy trickle disowned by the high tide. Eager toes delve for pipis in gritty-grey sand below crumbling crags where the wide-eyed horizon overflows.…

by Tanya Dawes We walked in silence Round the empty school yard And back. On my third try She let me take her hand. The streets were wide Angle parking both sides Footpaths lined with elm trees Centenarian trees Once…

by Ron Wilkins Each summer we would go there, Paula, the three small children and I and the thing we most liked to do was walk the several kilometres above the tree-line to Mount Kosciuszko, then return along the track…

by Ron Wilkins Dressed in the lightest tempura, deep fried, whole, complete, a small mouthful head and bones crunchy, flesh delicate, delicious, faintly earthy, like wild mushrooms, drawn by some imprinted memory the taste of flowers on autumn rice all…

by Rohan Buettel Two Tibrogargans on opposite banks; gorilla arms reach across, grasping with a steel grip — a Bradfield Highway anchored on the north cliff, a face of schist. In the south, a second pier prevents a twist. Observe…