tread as softly as a rainbow
in a fish’s eye
don’t wrinkle the moon’s reflection
with your footprints

carry nothing in your backpack
but a lucky stone
and a curled leaf you can blow through
to whistle up the sun

the wild lemon tree is caged
with spikes and the logged hills
smother the river with silt

take no photographs, no souvenirs
colour bleeds from memory
as a cuttlefish squirts ink

© Lyn Reeves

Peter Macrow,
Tasmanian Times Poetry Editor.
Tasmanian poets or those with a Tasmanian link are invited to send up to 5 poems which have not appeared previously in print or electronic media to:
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For the complete collection, click here: Poetry, Peter Macrow

Lyn Reeves