Living in Nature
We cling tight to these cliffs,
turbulent tides below.
Driving the ocean road,
we look out for Antarctica.
Breezes lash shrubs and trees.
We shelter among roots,
branches. But nothing holds
against the winds, the waves.
When the Fire Raged, the City Buckled Skywards
All February, the fire circled.
There was a drought, no water left.
The Country Fire Authority
gave updates, advised we stay calm.
When the big wind blew,
the city didn’t burn,
it buckled to become a huge eucalyptus.
Punt Road still had too much traffic.
In Search of the Divine
Carl Jung documented dreams
where a big hand
reaches from the sky
just when the dreamer needs it.
Many saw a hand appear
half the size of the city.
It didn’t strike them as a divine presence.
It was acutely disturbing.
Michael Mintrom lives in Melbourne, Australia. He has published poetry in Australian and New Zealand literary journals including Landfall, Meniscus, Quadrant, and Sport. His recent poetry sequence, “Box Set for the Rolling Stones” can be found on the open access website of Literary Yard.
The Ekphrastic Review
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