
Mid-morning bush walk:
winter sun finds hiding spot
between pine needles,

Mid-morning bush walk:
winter sun finds hiding spot
between pine needles,

Shining between cracks;
winter sunlight through cupped hands,
moonshine through dead trees.

Forest has fallen;
yesterday’s leaves, crunchy now,
cushion my journey.

Petals turned skyward,
please, sir, can I have some more,
plants ask after rain.

Scarred, marred, and battered,
the earth nurtures ground cover;
swathes the pain in turn.