westerly –
the duststorm's shadow
    reaches them



    she fans herself
with a city catalogue –
    beach fashions



    shoulders his swag,
thanks her for the scones –
    the long paddock



    kitchen flyscreens –
the sheep farmer's wife
    still flicks her hand



    first school day –
at the train station a boy
    comforts mum



    cutting out the cheque –
she meets the last train
    he might be on



    wool slump –
she fetches the radio
    and two cold beers



    she straightens up
from docking lambs –
    the kelpie wags his tail



    the river comes down –
in bright sunshine she watches
    fences go under



    Christmas drought –
bird shadows criss-cross
    a fallen lamb



    earth trickles
through her fingers –
    a far train whistle

    morning mist –
listening for the cows
    she hears the creek



    spring morning –
the plop of tennis balls
    on an antbed court



    ladies foursome –
she kicks cow pats
    off the first tee



    radio music –                
footprints of a fox-trot
    in the dust



    dandelion ball –
her daughter's breath
    sows a paddock



    flooded farm –
bellow of the house cow
    at dusk



    hailstorm –
half their tomato crop
    intact



    city guests gone
she lets the old dog in –
    glowing embers



    a shadow cast
by the boarded-up bank –
    on the wallaby

    spring morning –
unsmiling
    faces on the street


    autumn dusk –
terracotta rooftops
    sink into smoke


    breast clinic –
she parks their 4WD
    between two jags


    oncology –
reception room flowers
    still plastic


    the dress shop
stocks all shades of black –
    endless smiles

    blues festival –
sharing summer twilight
    with new sisters


    cloudbanks
on the sea horizon –
    her tight bathers


    city bus –
such skill in avoiding
    eye contact


    the subway train
surfaces in sunlight –
    no one else smiles


    her plane
climbs into clear skies –
    that shrinking city

    mill whistle –
she resists the urge
    to count fingers



    forest blockade –
she shares her thermos
    with protesters



    bush track –
she overtakes
    a magpie



    old growth forest –
her dog
    runs through the silence



    woodsmoke
on the evening air –
    a mother's call



    crack
of a whip bird's call –
    the stillness



    she picks her way
though smoking tree trunks –
    a chimney



    husband away –
their bedroom full
    of one mosquito

    still digging, wombat?
you too
    should lose weight



    crossing this field,
I pause to salute you –
    bravo! dung beetle



    white cockatoo
I do not have the tongue
    to hear your news



    pheasant
why do you strut so?
    ah, a new mate



    a bittern's cry –
come, brave dog,
    let's watch for bunyips



    so, dingo,
who cast the first stone
    at you?



    shy, echidna –
only the ants know
    your face



    a bone
and winter sunshine –
    you lucky dog



    cane toad,
you too, are ugly –
    let's jump on our reflections