autumn equinox 2020: it is all about the balance.

i have parked my car
and hung up my keys,
stood a while at the gate
listening for the silence
of settling dust –
there is so much to be done now
that starts with undoing,
but for now we wait
for the growing moon
to plant our seeds
in new turned earth.


WhatsApp Image 2020-03-20 at 15.58.00




in march we shear the goats


there is no talking
as it would break the spell
and wake serena
who sleeps with woolly breaths,
her head on my shoulder
on a slow autumn afternoon.
sewing scissors in hand
i free the goat from the pile of curls,
gathering the fleece
for winter spinning





ancestral obligations

for now
birds still sing
the evening,
while somewhere in the house
there is ukulele and talk,
and the steady knife to board
rhythm of chopping vegetables

(but out there –
out there the streets have turned to silence,
there is pause and breath and wait –
and all the sanitiser in the world
is not going to wash our hands
of this, because we knew
and we knew
there was bound to be a reckoning)

and it all
always happens
in the kitchen,
the eating of the earth
and the stories
that taste of soil,
where the door
has been left ajar
showing the shadowy stairs
to the underworld
where the old myths
have been keeping pace with us
all along – black dogs with pink tongues
lolloping beside us
for thousands of years,
waiting for this silence
and our courage
to accept the task.






it was full dark
before i made my way inside
hands full of cactus dahlias
and roses full blown
before promised rain.

these autumn evenings catch me –
sending bats to flit the sky
while i feel the last kiwi cuttings into the soil,
water late season tomatoes new planted.

it is better this way,
i am better this way,
finding myself again
in the voluptuous impossible
of the garden
doing what needs to be done.


WhatsApp Image 2020-03-14 at 19.15.39