Thursday, February 25, 2016


It’s the grappling that I like. Under pressure the grappling shows some days. The desperate scratch at an idea or an image. The obvious rush at a photograph to start the words or to embellish words already found.

My Poem 44 on Project 365 + 1 is an attempt to capture the butterfly or moth which greeted me that night. It’s striking markings it’s graceful moves. How not to say wings ... How not to say flutter or even wave. How to reflect on time spent around colour music dance (Canberra's Multicultural Festival).

you dance  wings moving
 like islanders’ hands
your ochre belly

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