Before long

The river filled up with smoke today,

long white dragon slid over

the strait to belay

upon the water

Chug-alug of the tug boats

puttered at the rotting weir

and the teatree burnt

kissed the kayaker

pausing for breath

some grey interim

cautious change

Bubbling beneath the river surface

incredulous, the seasonal rift

gave a polite wave

This way, this way

you find nothing else said

but drink a late brew tea

on the fibro shack porch

It’s a new moon but strangely bright

looking across the steel bridge

to the orange glow

of street lights

Waiting