Counting the Swans


I would change nothing.


Not the red beaks

or the black feathers;

not the noise of the freeway,

or the outreach of trees.


But I do not have time. . .


Small deaths fill my hours,

give their shape to my days.

Dead tongues lick my ears.


And I am counting the swans

in the Lake Monger carpark

counting my hours

in the Lake Monger carpark

red beaks and black feathers

in the Lake Monger carpark


and the dampness of places

I do not have time for;


and I do not have time.

One Tree Bridge

by Dennis Greene

Table of Contents


Birth Song

Preparing the Way

These my words...

Job

Counting the Swans

Who’s there

Captain Cook

All Quiet

Kings Park (Anzac Day)

Rope

A rhyme for the nursery perhaps . . .

Phoenix

Kuta

Antarctica

Tunnel

Here be dragons

The Road Menders

The stalling of birds observed at close quarters

Galapagos

Love what you’ve done with the place

Painting "Dr Gachet"

One Tree Bridge

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!

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