|Jan/Feb 2018 Poetry Special Feature|
Textile Photo Art by Jeffrey Trespel
Sidewalks, promenades, footpaths—
I shape them all into a bush track
where centuries of air settle on a tame desert.
Small creatures share my tread—
joint custodians of shale and twitching weeds.
Loneliness is shed like a snake's skin,
burdens vanish into the corrugations
eroded by rain and drought.
If I stand too long in one place
flies settle at the corner of my mouth,
movement is the portent of peace.
Evening mist is rarefied
into silver tinsel that kisses
saltbush sprigs and goanna trails.
Silence unravels the night,
lunar waves fasten my genes to completeness.
I breathe in/
I breathe out.