beyond the window
a net of roots
stitches the creek bank
to battered earth.
red dust swirls,
seeds lie
in cracks and crevices
patient for rain.
paddocks of brittle stalks
fill the space between us,
overhead a crow flaps
its caws encircling
our silences—
a storm front builds
bringing hope
… do I walk away
shadows of thoughts
shift through my head,
things left undone.
the piles of red dust.
each step leaden now
falling grit fills footprints,
blurs the distant tree line.