lantana, eucalypts, stept
from a shell on the shore of the sea
pacific and awake
to nothing.
I was born with small birds in my eyes,
hair of sticks, leaves of sand
paper coarse and wild on the edge
a single lawn, a grove in the mountains.
Sacred place, elided and eroded
erased.
I emerged from bamboo
I enter bamboo groves, a forest-copse
semi-seen.
I am the silvereyes and coucal pheasants
never remembered
a fox on the beach carefully eating eggs.