I am stunned
by a spider's
fixed stare.
The full moon,
an orange glow,
rises in another
swallow-settled evening,
of noisy scuffles in
dry leafy mulch,
decayed from days,
months, years
of drought. 'Roos
are dying. Without
water we shall all die.
Red hens leap
Lauren Jackson style.
Lift up, stretch tall for
dangling fat black mulberries.
Juices keep them alive.
Spinebills sink into
honey'd banksias.
I keep my cup ready
to catch liquids,
whatever there is.

  
image of a camera with lenses

About the Poet:
"Each day demands that I write and that my fingers touch and feel the earth." Barbara Taylor has published prose and poetry, and is a regular performer at Live Poets Poetry Slam evenings. Nature, politics, peace and women are her main interests. Her poems have been on local, community, national, internet radio, and various ezines around the globe. Barbara writes from the Rainbow Region of New South Wales, where inspiration, peace and freedom to create, comes from the serenity and beauty of this special area. Her diverse poetry with audio can be accessed at http://batsword.tripod.com and www.triplopia.com.

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