Chris Johnson, Sydney, Australia
#1
A lone Indian flute
gestures to the night sky
and autumn moon.
I gaze into the silent,
Starry River, while the moon
plays in shadows
behind the silver-tipped
outline of a single cloud.
#2
Night opened her velvet robes.
Stars shot through plum flesh sky.
Silent apart from gentle murmurs
of dark dwellers in low shrubs.
Wading through tall grass toward
the homestead casting a single lonely light.
#3
The spear fisher emerges from the wash,
bends to rip off his long flippers
then slowly walks in the crumbling surf,
insignificant, venturing from the deep
lonely blue near the Grey Nurse’s nest
to once again tread on the powdered sand.
Chris Johnson is a Graduate student at Sydney University, currently working on a thesis examining the work of ecopoet Gary Snyder and the enigmatic Tang dynasty poet Han Shan (Cold Mountain). When he’s not studying, he loves to immerse himself in the beautiful landscapes of Australia.