Shortlisted poem: Trephina Bluff

trephina bluff
Trephina Bluff and its dry creek bed – photo by John Hutchison of the Avithera blog


The river bed, all white with salt 

sucks in her cheeks 

and picks her mint green scabs 

with stick fingers. 


River Red Gums lean in close, 

they send their patient roots to reach down 

deep. A silver thread is all that’s left 

to mirror the mountain. 


What the river cannot see is how the water, 

sinking back, has stitched a tract in fine red 

hope — the seedlings strung 

and scattered out, along the edge 


of its retreat; and salt is blooming strange 

white lilies; silently (and in the night) 

the dingo plants its perfect   



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s