Les Littleford

Sometimes the frostbite still tingles
And the memory clicks into gear
After 44 years I still hear the shadowy scream
As Simon flew batlike over my head
...

A new baby
No
More than a new baby
A special bundle of genetic miracles
...

Dare you compare it to a country walk?
Dismissed by some a sadly wasted day,
But this of course is ill informed, the talk
Of those ne’er to have shared the joy of play,
...

Moss, trillions of microscopic leaves,
Carpets rocks and leaves
In the sheltered depths of snake gully.
...

I sat, tense, with increasing horror,
and my mind returned to
my childhood days in the church choir
when, every Sunday,
...

On million dollar land
overlooking Coogee Bay
lie hundreds of graves.
Memorials to cardinals, sailors, politicians
...

It has been seasonal - our separation-
The rare dark days of discontent
Sent scurrying like Spring clouds
With the sure knowledge of summer to follow
...

I knew the plot.
I had read it
studied it
taught it.
...

From the river it peaks at you,
peering around the modern, practical, concrete highway.
But from the Gorge
its arches form the perfect backdrop.
...

From the Northern slopes of Ben Lomond
the South Esk flows
south
west
...

The morning mist surprises,
its delicate long fingers
sliding silently, surreptitiously
in from the river
...

With Launceston rapidly growing,
public health was a topic of choice.
With debate and opinion flowing
Edward Ackerman added his voice.
...

The annual hand wringing
We don’t glorify war – but we do
We talk of ‘The Ultimate Sacrifice’
But sacrifice is voluntary
...

Fences, the glue of farming
laid waste for miles,
a patchwork jumble of flood litter, dead sheep, ruined crops.
...

I see them up and down the road,
assorted uniforms, varied demeanours.
Hair tousled, crimped, and chopped,
embodiments of that eponymous snail.
...

“We didn’t used to have one of you”
my first words to him
aged three
Welcome home Dad
...

I’ve given away the white board markers
emptied the files
shredded confidential pages
...

Deep in Lilly Pilly Gully
in the heart of Wilson’s Prom
waits a Boardwalk.
Enter
...

I wish I could remember more.

Through misty memories
Old family photos
...

It’s fifty years today since dad died.

I was three when he returned, late,
from the horrors of Burma.
...