Amy Cuneo


Fingertips of trees flicker

light dark light

as underwater weeds

neath surf surge

Coughing winds

like plaguing thoughtsthoughts winds

no one rests on days like these

We found a fresh path today

lemon lit on grey dancing

buffered each side by banksia


and pearly

early we walked the aisle

brides blessed by left and right

yes like babies cradled warm by night

We could hear the howling world

but we did not feel it