Coffebreak

COFFEE BREAK, BENDEMERE

By the small river's bank,
anchored to earth,
in the chill of light breeze,
winter-bare willows
are swaying long strands.

High in the twisting
branches a perching
magpie is black
on the sky's noonday blue.

And the stream, gently flowing
past the granite-grey boulders
that are huddled, enduring,
sparkles ripples in sun-
and the stream is all time
and is languid but lasting.

By a town that's grown backwards
from old days of gold-finding,
a few minutes removed
from the scene-rushing highway,
is a peace and a seeing-

and the stones and the trees and the bird and the stream,
are nothing so special, just everything special
in its moment of being.