First published in January 2019
The sea draws its nets across the sand,
the sand a bunkhouse for secret creatures.
The rocks snuggle down in tippets of weed,
weed slithers and slumps into dreamtime.
The sun leans tired elbows on the hills,
the hills slip into wild purple pyjamas.
The wind, not ready for bed, tickles treetops,
treetops shrug, birds tuck heads beneath wings.
The moon reaches out to light her yellow lamp,
the lamp glows, a feeble flame in feather-grey dusk
The darkening clouds loom over lazy rivers,
rivers amble towards a last date with the sea.
The night quietens, whispers Sleep well,
and sleep brings its evening hush to the world.