first frost
covering the snowpeas
with hessian
©️sbwright2023

Japanese Form Poetry by SB Wright
first frost
covering the snowpeas
with hessian
©️sbwright2023

orange embers
the ginger cat toasts
his toes
©️sbwright2023

fresh green chilli
we fight over the last pint
of ice cream
©️sbwright2023

Winter here is green. No snow, or if it ever did, the record is lost in the annals of legend. Almost imperceptible, the winter grasses sprout amongst last year’s greying wheat stubble.
winter grass sprouts
I steep the Matcha for exactly
three minutes
©️sbwright2023

newly vacant lot
the wattlebird as confused
as I
©️sbwright2023

a month flitters
at the toilet window
moon viewing
©️sbwright2023

rain patter
we light the first fire
of winter
©️sbwright2023

Tōdai-ji Temple
we bow at the national treasure
and it bows back
©️sbwright2023

We tour the region north of Goyder’s line and it hits me that here is a foreshadowing of the climate crisis to come; townships that used to house 600 were reduced to a couple of aged and cracking official buildings, monuments to human hubris. For sure, technology ensured that the regions were populated again but I’m not sure if we learned anything.
cracked ashphalt
a pepper tree sprouts
in centre court
©️sbwright2023

beside the creek bed
the meandering course
of mated ringnecks
©️sbwright2023
