the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory

Matilda Bay in May

(…how should it go? I can’t decide…)

lone silver gull trades wingbeats with its mirrored twin
reflected sky morphs psychedelic in gentle translucent rippled       leeward shore
city skyline swells hard and phallic slightly west of vanishing       point
taut rigging sings harmonic as tethered yachts nose into a   gathering breeze

lid of cloud begins above the bay, spreads eastward
to the west, clear sky paints eucalypts and a lone pelican bright against darkening cumulus

rising sea wind; an autumn leaf, dancing with wind and gravity, lands soundlessly on shining water with the poise of a sacred crane

a backlit scrum of gulls makes a savage diversion of a stolen morsel
perfect light on white
wings and water

(and again)
as taut rigging sings
harmonic and tethered yachts
nose into the gathering breeze
the brittle city skyline swells phallic

just west of vanishing point

the reflected sky morphs psychedelic
at the gentle, translucent leeward shore;

a lone silver gull trades wingbeats
with its mirrored twin

ragged, a pergola of cloud
juts eastward over the bay;
eucalypts, and a lone pelican, blush
bright against the darkening sky

(and again)

lone silver gull
trades rhythmic wingbeats with
its mirrored twin

soundless autumn leaf
oscillates towards still water
a sacred crane floats

backlit scrum of gulls
fiercely contested morsel
white wings on water


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