Catchment Poetry of Place
I am thrilled to have three of my poems and two recent tanka included in the latest edition of the Catchment Poetry of Place Journal.
Thank you to Rodney Williams for his dedication to bring this latest edition of Catchment to the world.
Congratulations to all the included poets . It is an honour to be published amongst them
https://www.bawbawartsalliance.org.au/catchment2/
Dear Colleen Keating
Thanks yet again for your support of Catchment – Poetry of Place: it is greatly appreciated.
You will find that Edition 5 has gone live online, through the Baw Baw Arts Alliance website, viewable through Latest Edition, at this link:
https://www.bawbawartsalliance.org.au/catchment2/
Looking forward to receiving further contributions from you in future, we hope that you will enjoy reading our fifth edition,
please feel free to share Catchment with others!
Hidden Life
Above me on the Bobbin Head track
a monolith of uplifted sandstone
looms. All the tones of amber, buff and beige.
A cavernous rock of Michelangelo gravitas.
Wind-chiselled, sand carved. Even as I watch
grains of quartz scrape and grate.
Shapes are breaking out.
It took me to Florence
a corridor of unfinished sculptures
The Prisoners, stone carved by Michelangelo
on his quest for the marbled sculpture ‘David.’
It is said he worked from inside, believing
the stone knows.
Below the cliffs, the ripple of waves
fold and unfold. Tides underscore.
Water finds grooves. Wind sandpapers.
They wear down lines shaping, carving
into the grain. Craftsmanship on show.
Shapes are breaking out.
by Colleen Keating
Litchfield National Park
whistling kites
firebirds of the sky
hang
on up-drafts of air
eyeing prey
in the blackened patchwork of burn off
we wander
through hundreds of termites mounds
their north-south stance
a graveyard of magnetic headstones
tread lightly
this land a remnant of Gondwanaland*
is a library of books still to be written
* Name given to an ancient
supercontinent.
by Colleen Keating
At Matsuyama
silently one after another
haiku poets with shoes off
stand at Shiki’s door
gaze in at an old style room
tatami mats cushion
low desk with dry ink well brush
tattered papers
Shiki’s writnig corner
in his garden
we tread a stone-paved way
read his haiku carved on stones
and wait for inspiration.
by Colleen Keating
Tanka
Changi
the airport friendly and safe
how different
this word from our history books
of suffering and bloodshed
beach lookout –
a springtime visitor
rolls and flaps about
silver glints on its flippers
keep us fixed in awe
and later he suns on the groin
by Colleen Keating
