Connecting Dots

*** (a poem) *** white finger tips press over bumps smears orange dust on Forgotten Road red circles are Family Camps in Nature they move on together Black History gone …

Five Fingers

Nestled in the Hunter Valley lies a town, dotted with quaint tea shops in heritage listed buildings, threaded together by a brook that occasionally babbles too high. Feel the energy, …

Payback

I’m at a bus stop, fooling myself that the tin shed is sufficient protection from the heat. As I lift my bum from the metal bench to allow for a …