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On Darling Point

See this feud between wren and crow;
buzz and strafing,
then the crow's tactical retreat
to the weird bones of a frangipani.
Blind leaves fingering
air; planted, so the Chinese say,
to discourage ghosts.
The dull bells of rocking boats.
Coruscating diamonds on the water.
Spilled contraband of rain
on freshly shorn lawn.
The mowing I have done myself. Tedious
tumult of nature.
Whose job to contain it?
Such pleasant dappled boredom.
On the flagstones of the jetty
a soup of seawater and blood.
A fisherman dozes under the thorns
of a coral tree, radio mumbling.
Contents of his bucket still.