Spirit Moments

The sheoak whispers and wails
A wattlebird warbles and whistles
The laughing bird claims the tree – my tree, my tree, mine

A possum tail flicks high in the red gum
Silver-green leaves dance in the morning light
Shivers of bark peel and curl and swirl down the trunk
The ancient tree claims the ground – my place, my place, mine

The shuffle and scuffle of leaves
Blown by a breeze that wanders aloft
Ignorant of the bossy grumble of creek that warns
Of the power of earth, of clay, of stone
The swollen ground claims the creek – my creek, my creek, mine

The sway of stems, green and gold
Lit by a dapple of sun and ripple
Grasses murmur and rattle
Flowers lure the bee, the bird, the possum
To the meadow, the stream, the enchantment
The restless creek claims the water – my water, my water, mine

Noise, croaking frogs, screaking insects
Water moves, slides, sloshes
Comes from somewhere to go elsewhere
Giggles and gurgles, splatters and swirls
Splashes and chuckles, titters and cackles
The music of water as it slides over, around, through
The water claims the rock – my place, my place, mine

The earth, sand and soil and stones
Rocks, grey, brown, tinged in gold
Deny the movement of time
Solid, motionless
They hold their place
Sentinel, foundation, strength
Streaked with white and silver, with memories
The rock claims the age – forever, forever, and now.


CS Dunn 2015



image from Pixabay


And a second poem, sad, a broken heart, so if you don’t want to feel that, leave now.



What was your name
How can I remember you

My blackened heart
My shattered soul
The images of what could have been
Mark me
Did I give you a name
Was there a name for the life that slipped away

Was there time to bestow a name
To something not yet someone
Was there time to grieve

Tell me your name
To bring you alive in my memories

I know the second I lost you
The moment you died
When will the time come
When I can give you a name
Your name

Is there a name for
The dreams
The hopes
The ambitions

A name to remember
To fill the hole that is now my heart
To ease the pain of my tortured soul

There is no name

Those few precious moments when you had life
Have faded       into     a few precious moments
Only mine, only memories

And I lost you

CS Dunn

Yes, I’m still as sick as a hairy black dog (see previous post).



7 thoughts on “Poems

  1. love the refrain in the first poem. I can almost hear the chant in the background “mine, mine” while the poet reads to change to “forever and now”. ok, i did have to shoo the raven away because he wanted it to call out forever more. ravens are pesky that way.

    the second one reminds me of a cemetery I saw in Tokyo for babies died unborn, their names carved into stone. Would-be parents left little offerings of toys and other baby things as a gift to the child they almost had. It was sad despite the bright happy gifts because the person who could have played with them never did, never had the time but they are still remembered, still mourned. your poem is like that

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Writing Links…5/28/18 – Where Genres Collide

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