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Bite
BITE.
Maybe sharks glide in
the beatific blue sheet sea.
Unpredictable.
I clamber over saw-toothed
limestone, by crumbling cliffs.
RIVERBANK.
Soft skin flakes hang from twisted paperbarks over clear water.
Silt puffs and billows as circling writhing eels resolve into
a dark ray's fluted rims and a pale crab scoots to flimsy weed.
PASTEL.
Leaves, a far green haze,
aspiring flowering gums.
Sky-scaling Karris.
Peeling trunks reveal tints or
yellow, peach, brown and shell pink.
poem
by
Diane Hine
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