Alfred Cove

Sunlight on water is all that's left of movement
in this emptiness, though marri and jarrah and
paper-bark grow near the water's edge and reeds
fill the gaps to where Alfred Cove waits in the sun.

Here, one road bends round the cove, one road
ends, and the million dollar homes crowd in close
on their suburban lots, to stand tall behind rolled
garage doors, eyes half closed against ripple and sun.

I have come by slow roads and quick days to this place
and this sun, to this path through the reeds, this glimpse
of the water's edge; I have moved through each hour of
my life just to stand here today, to be still in this way,
under this ring of blue sky.

(the "next" paddle will take you to another poem by this author)