Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk my heels in to the path
clawing their way 
  like elbowing soldier
  limbs snaking
  braving unknown land
into a frozen canvas
fifty shades of green
a thirty more of brown
like monsters fully grown
towers rooted on the ground
a hoodie fading in the light
no other soul within my sight
or even a whiff
stirring dewdrops on the leaves.


Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk my heels in to the path
barging all along
  as pindrop in a morgue
  a crack in peace
  in a silent dome
through outlined arches
thousand echoing screeches
and a hundred more whispers
like black spots on pale face
scattered along the maze
unnamed birds picking dirt
and dropping, as yeast in wort
lost in a winter
too cold for folks to banter.

Photo: Western Foreshore Park, Lake Ginninderra, Canberra.