On a beach track at Two Rocks, a stone;

its lime weighs down the sudden

minute. I watch sand swarm like bees


that I once saw in a market town.

They sent people running into buildings

for keys to lock their windows,


some woman with a goose was saying

just because they’re stripy

doesn’t mean they are robbers. Honey


bees covered the back of my shirt,

tangled in my hair, me not seeing much

caught in that apoidean storm.


Still the sand spirals against my legs,

its rough manner of being

stings me into knowing again that cut


grass from the old lawn mower

spitting at me as it passed beside the path

chalked in squares and numbers.


Now the swarming grit stops mid flight

a thousand little engines stalling

at my feet. A specimen of limestone rock


its interior carved out like a hive,

the walls lined with tiny cavities, a nest

abandoned, as if the sand had wings.



Image: Pebbles / flickr 




Shey Marque

Shey Marque is an emerging poet from Perth. A former medical scientist, she left her career in 2005 and completed a MA in writing in 2011. Her poetry has appeared in journals including Award Winning Australian Writing, Cordite, Meanjin, Westerly and Southerly. Aporiac, a chapbook, was published in 2016 with Finishing Line Press (USA). Her first full collection, Keeper of the Ritual, was shortlisted for the 2017 Noel Rowe Poetry Award for an unpublished manuscript, and recently accepted for publication by UWA Publishing forthcoming in 2019.

More by Shey Marque ›

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