March

Eucalyptus— bark peeling like time’s skin,
revealing untold stories never
written on ghost gum trunks,
each strip a letter mailed
to nowhere.

June

Bottlebrush— frost eating its red scripture,
honeyeater’s tongue finding only ice
where nectar should pool,
your coldness teaching the bird that some
flowers refuse.

September

Wattle— gold erupting from absence,
magpies teaching wind
your unsung name while I walk
fields blooming with parallel selves who
kissed you.

December

Jacaranda— purple falling through heat-oppression
where your shimmering song once bent
the light backwards,
cicadas shriek the frequency of never touching,
summer undone.

 

5/10/2025