Always these intersecting lines
a railway junction, a train
terminal: wires and bolts, a barrier parallel
to the sky. Below looking up
Always these greys, it’s always
raining. A crossroad leading to a street
that bends. Downwards: bitumen and pitch
black shadows, sharp
iron railings: a vertical grid
lights refracted, unbroken
housefronts
Always at an angle, cold slabs drained sinister
impassive, oppressive, too narrow too
tall perpendicular dull white and upright
there
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Art lover. Loves her family and her dog.
Worked in the Australian rock music industry as a journalist and published widely as a poet before moving to London and spending the better part of a decade in advertising agencies. Returned to Australia and briefly tried teaching, primarily teaching English to non-English speaking, newly-arrived refugees but also as a high school classroom teacher. Has travelled Western Europe, North Africa, Russia, Northern India, East Asia, coastal USA, some Pacific Islands, and Australia.
