A Bluffed Point

Grass blur

A Bluffed Point

Constant, each stone step rising higher and higher

Wrapping back on itself hidden amongst these trees

Sea and sand getting further, vanishing from below

At its face upon gravity’s physics, where a Wind’s

Horizontal friction, says no, not for sound, its music

But higher to climb, passing static platforms waiting

For someone else to stop and pause for a time or two

Not these feet though, on around each rocky outcrop

To emerge from a tree-line’s slumber, its elevated fringe

Still climbing, one foot in front of another, up and ahead

Along rock and stone caught on red earth, dirt dry at another

Winter’s beginning, all the way to its pinnacle where a wooden

Seat waits, for another to rest a while, high above a broad bay

Stretched out to a North and to a South, where a sea waits on

A Moon to turn its tide once more, high here on a bluffed point

Double Head up the bay and Ritamada holding conference down

No need to rush today, no need to not linger for a while in a moment.

4 responses to “A Bluffed Point

    • For us here, Summer is the wet season (monsoons and cyclones, but also bushfires and dust storms) and Winter is the dry season (cool dry air comes up from the Antarctic in the form of southerlies). Seasons and the parties they attend…

  1. It’s sometimes a struggle to not be the one who needs to rest while climbing a trail. But it’s worth it to stop and linger sometimes. Those benches are trying to tell us something.

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