Lyn Reeves
Rough Marks
The old jetty, a ruin now. Just two long timbers resting on each other, spanning a tumble of rocks, barnacled, held in place by weathered pilings. The cormorant is there again today, perched on the edge nearest the water, wings outstretched. I don’t like to disturb him, but I want to go to my usual seat by the post, fissured by wind and tides, where I leave my tools—a piece of red ochre, a knob of charcoal, smooth stones I inscribe with rough marks. I wait.
sea breeze
the taste of salt
on its breath
What will I find today? A thin branch is wedged in the centre of one of the pilings and from it a ribbon of seaweed flutters. A flag marking the space. This is a shared place, though I never see who else sits here and leaves, like me, tokens found along the beach. Fossils. An abalone shell, its iridescent nacre. Sharp flints, artefacts shaped for holding in the hand.
ripples in sand
what the tide does
when no-one’s looking
About the Author
Lyn Reeves lives in Tasmania near a beach south-east of Hobart. Her haiku collection, Field of Stars, was shortlisted for the prestigious Arts Tasmania Poetry Prize, 2022. Lyn recently retired from her roles as co- editor, Echidna Tracks: Australian Haiku and vice president, Australian Haiku Society, to spend more time writing, making photographs, and walking with her little white dog.