Marked by uncertain movement
the exploration begins. A ricochet
of breath under sky, dark with rain
and a dozen white cockatoos in raucous flight
from desire congealed on aged skin,
crumpled loosely around joints,
like smoke trapped in the still of summer.
Breathing another breath, pressing bodies close,
a solitary moment bracketed
by the whine of a baby
the clack of rock falling on rock
the soundless creep of water
puddled in drought
Seeking continuance from the day
we know we are dead.
BJ Muirhead is a writer and photographer living in rural Queensland, Australia. He has published online and in print journals, and was included in an anthology of Queensland poetry (1986). He has published art criticism and was photographic reviewer for the Courier-Mail newspaper in the 1980s. His writing and recent exhibitions, Primary Evidence (2011) and Flesh (2014), continue his lifetime interest in the human body and its relation to the inevitability of age and death.