as dusk falls through red gold forest
fiery ripples bleed at the edges
of moonlight lake
where typha rushes sussurate
the breeze's kisses flow along the borders
between day and night
slow rain rinses between teeth of trees
chill crosses the slowly growing
moss of your thoughts
Timid Swimmer
fresh awake, my mind scans in details
of sun, sea and sky, yet I’m still startled
each morning when that first cold wave
like an odd idea jumps at my face
in ears and eyes there’s salted wrack
though warming sun covers my back
I’m anxious about humming turbines
from the undertow, tell me why
I always shiver and hold back
for in each new day
look:
a brand new ocean!
Where stillness drowses
from a photo
a pier thrown up
for enclosing boats
yachts bare of sails
and bare of souls
originals and duplicates
of their masts and jetty posts
hinged on a shimmering skin
the torpor of a dozing watch
harboured there as haze
Bionote
Ross Jackson is a retired school teacher and long term resident of Perth, Western Australia. He has had poems in many Australian literary journals and his work has also appeared in New Zealand, Ireland, England and Canada. He writes about the experience of aloneness in the suburbs, about aging, landscapes, the companionship of dogs, visual art and many other topics. Ross has led an unexceptional life but he is not complaining.
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