For me, the biggest problem trying to live my life in the momentis that I always seem to turn up for it 20 minutes early.
The American poet Mary Jane Oliver died on January 18, 2019. She was 83 years old.And now the world needs another poet. At least. When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death … Continue reading When Death Comes
In the burn of the afternoon Homeward bound after 3 weeks out. Before Christmas seems like forever. Central smells like oil and old socks sandstone, grease and 2 dollar begs. But my coffee is strong and the scorching tracks will take me soon. Home. Location:Central Station Sydney.
Today I ventured up the Parramatta river on the 'Rivercat'. Deisel drone sine wave swell cannot stay AWAKE. (missed my stop. nevermind.) It was an overcast afternoon. Out on deck the crisp river breeze was a welcome tonic to the recent sweaty days. The views flowed from river urban to mangrove to struggling eucalyptus forest … Continue reading Rivercat.
Big old lug of a bear dog. Gentle longfaced giant tagged with Grace. Our slow padding first-thing walks down to the jetty (she could drag me out to sea if she wanted) and back Breakfast all slopping then crunching then dripping from her ink brush moustache painting water-Morse trails through the house. Arthritis snags her … Continue reading Dog sitting.
Power, Labour, and Commerce. Above all. Power. Aloof, Sicilian marble stares since 1897. Dug up white. Sword & scales raised by the depression. Scroll of wisdom held tight and out of sight of us in hurry on the street below. Location:Queen Victoria Market Building Sydney Australia.