Leaf Whispers

I find him barefoot

moon-silvered face tilted

to forest canopy scrabbles

luminous eyes in my torch beam.

Now the lightning eastern sky

stirs currawong chords

breeze prickles bare skin.

I shiver.

the slap of his unclenched fist

still stings,

but here among trees

we planted

for shade and wood

his smile shines warm

as this new day’s sun.

I grasp his roughened knuckles

say his name,

his feet remain rooted

like an ancient eucalypt

his ears tuned to whispers

above my head.