school oval
swept clear of kids
— one plover
Duncan Richardson
humming an old tune
down this track
— wind in the she-oaks
Duncan Richardson
lit from below
snails on glass
rippling
Duncan Richardson
snowy slopes
wombat leaves a path
I can’t follow
Duncan Richardson
driving to work
the distant hills
beckon
Duncan Richardson
this valley filled
with moon, mist, stars
– who could sleep now?
Duncan Richardson
