accordion’s squall
twisting through bunched streets
crow’s neck distends
unexpected rain
the humid walls exhale
roast queenslander
slick black umbrella
bounces at a snapped joint
fallen bat
toowong traffic yawns
ghost-tram arrives earlier
than council bus
crowded station
arched spines against metal
bare tracks curve away
backyard mangoes
swell, yellow and fall
in your absence
bushland
ironbarks one by one
telephone pole
Zenobia Frost 