Why do I walk on tiptoes when I first step into icy blue?                                  As if my waist must stay above the lapping line,                                                   as though caution will keep me safe in this task which infants undertake with glee? The slow preparation, the gasps as underneath we plunge: all this is ritual, and weContinue reading “Ritual”

The Snake that Wasn’t

First, it prompts barking, then slithers, Its brown face poking, scaled, from the trees. Bamboo and rock can’t expose its camouflage, yet the dog is wiser. Trapped by barking and pool, the reptile skulks while, in Sunday daze, we search out “Kimberley snake control” and keep the dog at bay. In a flash between leaves,Continue reading “The Snake that Wasn’t”