we have a way with the dead

keeping them

eyes on vacation        our gondwana

on a stone just so

serene

mourning under doilies       lovely in beads

lush as milk

thread-work twists the coil

feathers flutter dovecotes

trees surge and shake and ripple

unflappable lizards lounge

wind hurdles like so much trouble

over the wall

come back       come back to the neighbour's old leaves

mingle

outnumbered by old brown

bark is bald and softly limber

such stationary finesse

seasons apologise profusely

sand spirits climb among branches

rest against walls

sit in sun

shade whispers rumours of rain in the south

darkness designs lips of china rose

they unfold

grinding flesh to the light

mouth open in mushroom secret

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