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In March I taught a workshop to the New Voices writing group, who meet in the Eastern suburbs of Sydney. Following our heatwaves of summer, we’d had dumpings of rain. I took them for a ginko into Centennial Park, from the Bondi Junction end. Here are our best efforts, with my echo to one of the haikus in each person’s work.
pressing my nose
to the tree’s trunk
-
Maori greeting
Diana
after the rain
blotched lichen on tree trunks
glows, grows.
this bare stick
plaything of dogs
once a flourishing branch
Dexter
yes, always weeds,
happy about the
rain -
I also
Diana
A cascade of branches
kissing the earth.
Not bending, connecting
Oliver
it emerges
from under
tree-skirts
perky white terrier
Diana
Centennial
Park has multiple uses, and users. I love seeing the dogs so happy, free to
bound around in a big space, with so many different smells.
burnt branch
shape of an iguana
car revs its
nonchalance
Rosalie
like thunder
but more determined
an aircraft coming
in
Diana
...and yes, it is a city park.
Poised trembling
Momentarily sun-kissed
A dewdrop waits
Bronze fronds
Spirally wrapped
Uncoil in grace
Haydn
big juicy
lillipilli
he picks them
she eats them
Diana
Haydn
fortunately knew that it was okay to eat these fruit, which looked like they
were dressed for the gym in bright pink lycra. It brought back childhood memories of what we used to nibble
on - we called them “monkey apples” in New Zealand.
Vertical gash
on spotted gum
red sap healing
Through spider’s web
moss encases
rough black trunk
Jennifer
the insects
have come out to
play
a break in the rain
Diana
I wanted to convey to this group that
you can write from “don’t know mind” where things present themselves in a bare
way.
ash colored curlicue prints
head of leaves
the blue gum is.
Rosalie
Yes,
essentially things just are.
“Don’t know” does not mean that you don’t know that it is a blue gum. Rosalie has captured this sense. Be it
human greed or belligerence – that too, just is.
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