full stop

full stop
‘..these are a few
of my favourite things’
sydney, january 2000

Unlikely colour lasting… these are a few of my favourite things. A Weathercat snap & staging.

when everything stops,
you find yourself walking,
the sound of your shoes like
rope straining on wood,
the evening hasn’t come down,
unlikely colour lasting,
curious hope against the
silvered weight of stars,
stars atip a darkness.

everything stops, your
feet breathing a rhythm
through the grip of your
shoes, heel landing
true on the pavement.
each footfall
a wind flips up
a corner of the night.
a flurry of tree, washing.
something struck along
the fence, emptily sounding

harp of stairs

harp of stairs
for Keikei on our anniversary May 13, 2023

harp of gold, a picture from the scrapbook of Weathercat Productions

on a harp
of falling
rain you
played an
autumn down,
the sun strained
out to its cold,
you played a
spiral dance
ascending
steps i
climbed till
you i
found

on a harp of
falling gold

sePTEMber

sePTEMber

“It is one light or another”, said the carpenter.  Image of Wakatipu by WeatherCat Productions.

wind gluts the day no clearer to me
_______________than the soft sky.

my unease is no thunder that shadows
_______________the blood.
fineness perhaps. blossom stripped
_______from a spring twilight,
_______the glint, almost sound
_______of autumn in the rain
_______reaches the bone as
_______water stills a fallen leaf.

the year swiftens. i glance at winter
___________whose shallow pools
___________held my sleep.
___________whose branches drew
___________the unlit morning.
___________whose streets became
___________a finger tracing the
___________turn of my knuckle
____________________or cheek.