Landscape & A Girl Poem by Lindsay Smith

around these clay creased basins
trees lie white & weathered
alive they roar like surf
& in the hearth crackle

moths strike against the window
my glass is empty
but I cannot get up
& disturb your soliloquy

merino hoggets skip over the hill after shearing
we leant on the rail your hand bag dangling

men waved from the wharf
where you mused staring at water

that sad bright eyed woman
& onion flowers

we parted & I had talked too much
& hardly held your hand
for fear the butterfly
might emerge too soon
falling in flight

1966