Stigmata
| ( from a walking track in the Blue Mountains on Good Friday ) ~Peter Stiles someone is hammering nails into timber. across the eucalyptic haze of distant hills descending cadences of impact slice the silence, as each nail reaches deep into the grain. someone is fencing a block or putting down decking. my thoughts in nearby fern-lined paths are pierced by a pattern of migraine throbs. I see his hands on coarse hewn wood, I feel his pain, my wrists in carpal tunnel agony. ~~~~~ Next: Long Weekend at Avoca |