…lucky to be leafless: Deciduous reminder to let go. (Eugene Peterson, “Blessed are the poor in spirit”) Lost in auto-pilot, I find myself, false turn on false turn, circling in this airport country where lanes diverge to let the suitcase-laden taxi-bound find ways to cities, and ways away. A loop, and again I am whereContinue reading “In Transit”
Tag Archives: western suburbs
Westgate Country
Did you know that Melbourne has a Brooklyn? Mostly factories, but behind the freeway Nestled amidst houses there’s a church, in Low-ecclesiastic cream brick. Today On my way to work I saw it, vacant Being Wednesday. But on Sunday there’s family. And I smelt the Spotswood Vegemite plant With its playful chimneys; a child mightContinue reading “Westgate Country”
Memory in Rain
Essendon is drenched today. On Albion And Buckley where my Granddad learnt to walk, To talk, lies last night’s deluge in puddles, In screen of watery sheen, while vermillion Morning climbs the eastern sky. When we talk Of heritage, does it sit in huddles Like these? old buildings nestled in new ones And the streetsContinue reading “Memory in Rain”
No Waste
Flights delay; schedules must be rearranged. Pause in the park; there is nothing else nearby; though sickness and tiredness lag our legs and this message must be read, that query returned. All the dead time of the week, all these fragmented moments – purpose evades when we have no control. Yet moments ripple when weContinue reading “No Waste”
All the birds of the freeway
I journey between factories and billboards and trees; needles of light pierce the morning sky, and in the east the vermilion city wakes. Spanning the distance, birds fly in sequence, sweeping sheets, kites, giant gulls across the horizon. When I arrive I will be static, and spark at friction from those who start their dayContinue reading “All the birds of the freeway”
The sun shines on Wyndham
The Antarctic wakes us with its morning missive blowing. Swaddled and bubbling, children shiver across the road. Crossing guard, I open my smile, bouncing frozen legs to warm them. To cross the road like a child, I must race and look not to the side. What winter brings will soon be known; the sun stillContinue reading “The sun shines on Wyndham”
10 Ways to Embrace the Ring Road
Embrace it. No other time of day can you sit still, without compunction. Here schedules mean nothing. You may be late; that cannot be stopped. Yet you can stop. You can look at clumps of grass and broccoli gums in wetlands and wonder how they looked before this road was even thought. You can watchContinue reading “10 Ways to Embrace the Ring Road”
Redeem the Commute
Keilor-bound at the wheel, a man plucks his middle brow over the hill. Trucks speak in whistling brakes; cars speak in blinkers; billboards speak in covered-up breaths and we, doubting ourselves, tremble forth. Across gorges and bridges, organ-pipes hum in the silent chorale of a wasted commute. Gold glints through gum-trees; grace glints in mirrors.Continue reading “Redeem the Commute”
Afternoon Flight
A willy wagtail, was it? Perhaps, but no time to check What Bird Is That? as it wags its way through lanes at lights, a truck here turning, there a foot compressing asphalt. Yes, I have seen its tail – proud tuft of feathers – pluckily braving the afternoon rush, and seen it hover,Continue reading “Afternoon Flight”
The Consolations of Writing 