she died (Molly Guy)

  lying face down (pissed) in a pool of her own vomit more than anything else as a child she’d longed to be able to see into the future  

Frangipani (Lyn Reeves)

This morning’s walk down the wet gravel drive – bush on either side, orange gum blossom torn by last night’s wind, its bright threads scattered.   Wallaby tracks indent the …