And Coast


First you have to pass through the trees

At night in the headlights they frame urban

legends of escaped hook-handed criminals

Mist swirls


Then the forest is felled by open sky

but you cannot yet see the beach

Beach houses yes, of wood & outside stairs & verandahs

Up there: the views


But still you have to walk and crunch the grass

watched by a mob of kangaroos so habituated

they just as likely phoned-out for pizza

Walk on by


Finally, sand amongst the moons of marsupial poo

Ahead water inks the picture-perfect sweep

The big moon gilds the peaks and crests

To the horizon


You could stop where the fishermen cast their lines

The cold will bite your ankles, slap you back

You could stop or dredge abrading toes in wet sand

Or dive


And coast

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