The Harvest Moon

We were free spirited teenagers
rolling in the fresh hay
We had just grew out of rough and tumble play
and learned to blush while our skin lightly touched

Those days there were curfews in the village
Watches were not in our posession like time
While our parents folded the night in sheets of peaceful sleep
We were left out in the barn under the October harvest moon

Neither of us knew how to wind down
from that restless playful energy
Our hands shifted from tickling to messing of hair
Our laughter drowned out the cricket’s anthem

Eventually darkness cast over us like a heavy blanket
Our breaths became auditable
rapid, rushing, out of sync
the build-up and pre-warning of a tsunami
The calm moon was unable to rein in the untamed young blood

Missing Person

She has been dreaming for years
to be the girl next door
living on a remote farm
where her closest neighbour
is 200k away

Farm life makes her
frightfully independent
She is the master of
shepherd dogs
a shepherd with a flock of geese
She tends to 2 silos filled with
1000 hectares harvest grains

Old pub on Friday nights
farmers are looking for a wife
They always look past her
thinking she is one of their own
sunburnt, sweaty, steward of the land
She finds herself
putting on mascara, blush, lip gloss
in vain

She packs her bag
drives her ute to the next town
hops on the first train
becomes the statistic of
another missing person