A poem published in the ANU Reporter not long after it was written.
I'd change some words if I were writing it today, but it is what it is.


Cold, crisp light, bright blue, nearly white,
Embracing all and reaching down
Through shimmering leaves dappled red and green
Across a line of oaks.

Feet shush-shushing along a path,
Rustling through brown papery piles,
Scattering acorns into shadows
To knock at solid trunks.

A guileless magpie, hopping clear,
Head tilted, in a Braddon street,
Watching the owner of slow-paced feet
Walking, in autumn, in Canberra.


This page: 11 October 2004.

©1991, 2004 Rory Ewins