This poem was published by Southern Cross University in the Coastlines 6 collection. I also gave a live reading of the poem at a uni meeting. When I find that (again), I’ll add it to the site.
The forlorn old running river
Driving windward, lost and found
Cockles, whelks and winkles
A riparian pastoral paradise
Is it a freshet or a brook?
Is it a rivulet or a rill?
Sandflies and mosquitoes
Flit, flutter, fluster, confound
A rainy afternoon in autumn
A frog remains cryptic
Splayed feet, webbed toes
Praying on the sessile and slow-moving
Play the panpipes as the fish jump
In my freshet, brook or rill
A hidden corner, a romantic grotto
Toads squatting in the rain
What the frogs have found
The toads have forever lost
Algae blue and algae green
Swimming and burbling, making merry and sad
