Surf Coast- Boxing Day 2015

Sketched upon the Cartridge
Of this morning’s beach
Wavering charcoal lines
Searching for a story
Scribbled by retreating tides.

Leaves, bark chips, small pieces of blackened timber
Not quite destroyed
Just baked in one explosive curse
Of fire and angry flames.

Charred too at the edges
Are memories
Of long summer afternoons
Of tinkling glasses on shaded verandas
Of laughter and of children’s voices
Echoing in the dunes
Of watching kookaburras,
Voyeurs on tall branches.

These private moments too
Sucked into the furnace
Reduced to ash
Wind-blown now
Across the sand.

‘You only live once’
Laughed the man with the blue surfboard
As he strode across the ash-strewn beach
To where the patient sea
Still waited.