by Jo Curtain
Returning to those muggy mornings
the smell of burning rubbish
palm fronds littering the path to the beach
Stillness sinks into shimmering black sand
the nostalgia of scorched coffee
churns with fragile memories
as pebbles tumble over my toes
Watching sets roll in
the changing light
spreads mellow saffron-peach
like a gentle gauze draping
the horizon
My face pumiced by the sun
as you paddle out
I imagine a perfect loneliness
your first surf
by Dorothy Johnston, Ivor Steven, Celeste Blundell-Camden, Phoebe Hancox, Jo Curtain Easter at Waralilly by Dorothy Johnston I write this in anticipation of the guns, the echoing of gunfire off the houses. The reeds around the swamp do not so much give back an echo as bear witness to
by Geelong Cereal Community Please enjoy our biggest collection yet! Many of these pieces featured on air last Friday night at the Geelong Cereal live reading "Smooth Talkers" on the Pulse 94.7FM. Well done everyone! Micro Fiction Randompedia III By Martin Smith Dyslexippus, also known as ‘the
by Celeste Blundell-Camden VIEWPOINT Sparkling Diamonds - Beautiful - but most are flawed! What of us - the same? HUMBLE TEACHER Strong tall barked wonder - You seed, sprout, bloom - change and die. Do you not ask why? THE SONG The immensity - Sky sea earth wind bird - human All are part - yet - all.
by Phoebe Hancox People assumed that when the rapture happened They would be responsible. That the world revolved around them And that they were the only ones that faced judgment They assumed that dogs, birds, and horses were clueless, Didn’t worship a higher power, Maybe even worshipped them, their
