Saturday 9 November 2002

Written 21 March 2002

Ode to Love

I dreamt of you face down
in the river. Somewhere near
the overgrown path that was
once an old cattle run.
Marsh gas, it was suffocating.
Leaf-broken light played over
the rippling water ‘round your body –
as if it were a mere toy.
Gold was zipping about the trees –
the birds were going about their business.
Twit, twit, twit, was the sound that
echoed on the breeze. Ha! How ironic.
Russet shadows crept their way along the ground,
drowning you in their dying glow.