Before humans: micropoem

Sometimes
I look at storm clouds, hunkering
on the horizon
and imagine
Earth before humans:
when day slid to night
and back again
and the revolution of time
(like the wheel)
had not been dreamed.

Moon: poem

I touch myself

under the gaze

of the peeping moon.

My luminous gasps

her cold, mute delight.

Morning walk 1: poem

Blotchy-trunked gum trees
cluster in the morning,
lean and lanky
 as adolescent boys
 in school assembly.