No Dogs on Beach
from the back of a truck
a bitzer barks at seagulls
Peter Macrow
brumbies have gone
from the snow-covered hill —
the snow
Peter Macrow
slow evening
the bar door cat-flap
lets in the scent of rain
Peter Macrow
over the bush
a magpie repeats a phrase
it’s being taught to sing
Peter Macrow
by the Scouts’ boatshed
oak trees
just turning green
Peter Macrow
