is this about the anthropocene emergency?

and who we are?

or is it just
a bunch of

( murmuring unbidden in my head when least expected )

written on a page torn from a book are the words so this is where you invent yourself

it’s quiet in the bush now
damp hints from the ground
the eucalypt scent bites

and clear birds holler
I say hello

to my reflection in the pool
but can these words

invent me?

reflection of waving man in a circular pool with bush reflections

renaissance woman wearing pearls coloured with red tinge with a wooden door superimposed and the words: never got to the lab