An Interesting Ancestry

To some of us, a tortoise lives on land
while turtles only rarely leave the sea.
‘Chelonians' applies to any brand,
so here I'll use this terminology.

Land dwellers share aquatic ancestry
and most of us decided to stay put.
Chelonians agreed to disagree.
A flippered revolution was afoot.

A late Triassic turtle fossil shows
a hard-shelled belly plate and softer back,
presumably to ward off fatal blows
from deeper-dwelling predators' attack.

Did top shell metaphorically ‘dissolve'
when full-shelled forebear sought the sea's embrace?
Or did an unshelled forebear's shell evolve
in oceanic pilgrimage retrace?

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poem by Diane Hine
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Spin

Would you like to hear
music played on space?
Sphere in thrall with sphere,
twin black hole embrace.

Hear the orbs collide,
see the future fly.
Welcome to our ride,
true, the cost is high.

Lest your body spread,
first we modify.
Reinforce your head,
structures fortify.

Transformational,
one event sublime.
Gravitational
waves of space and time.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Pantoum: Wandering

In the end it doesn't matter
Brush or roller paint afloating
As the consequences scatter
Dribbles show through extra coating.

Brush or roller paint afloating
Canvas, plaster wall or papers
Dribbles show through extra coating
Elongated teardropp tapers.

Canvas, plaster wall or papers
Home is dry or sometimes soggy
Elongated teardropp tapers
Drooling gape of grinning doggy.

Home is dry or sometimes soggy
Early man tamed wolf from wild
Drooling gape of grinning doggy
Vestige of a beast bred mild.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Child-Raising Advice

First, bear them, otherwise you won't have them.
To raise them, pick them up.
To unraise them, put them down again. Sounds obvious but........
Bear them, they'll grow on you.

Insert food.
Stick your elbow in their bathwater (I forget why) .
Do not dryclean.

Check for rattles. These are meant for external use only.
Although waterproof,
excessive exposure to the elements may damage their exteriors.
Tell your parents you forgive them and that they can baby-sit.

Tell everyone you forgive them and that they can baby-sit.
Be diplomatic about your friends' children (optional) .
Take offense when fools offer unasked for advice.

To improve reception, de-wax their ear canals.
To adjust brightness, vary the dose of red food colouring.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Pantoum: Angel

Insistent heavy throb of daylight passed
The sweated flora scented sunburnt air
The clarity of night transpired at last
The hunter shunned the radiating glare

The sweated flora scented sunburnt air
He watched the flickered furtiveness of night
The hunter shunned the radiating glare
A tissued wisp of wing eclipsed soft light

He watched the flickered furtiveness of night
Across the hanging moon's reflective gaze
A tissued wisp of wing eclipsed soft light
He felt an angel's fluctuating phrase

Across the hanging moon's reflective gaze
A hint of pink in bone-white watered silk
He felt an angel's fluctuating phrase
He felt enfolding hands as smooth as milk

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poem by Diane Hine
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Stacking Wood

Our Mum was chopping wood, a daunting pile.
She said, 'This must be stacked before you go'.
Affecting not to hear with practiced guile,
we pedalled off on bikes a mile or so-

to where the river mouth lay satin sleek.
Our wheels etched loops and spirals in the sand,
the palimpsest displayed our fine technique,
a tour de force of abstract art unplanned.

Back home, we slipped our bikes behind the shed
and Mum was busy gutting clean a chook.
We darted in and out to snatch a snack,
pretending not to see her pointed look.

Across the field, the web-laced stockyard fence
bequeathed its bones as splinters in our hands.
Our realms were spiked with riveting suspense
and bordered prickle-riddled no man's lands.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Birdbrain

Streaking, braking, twisting snatching,
Willie Wagtail's insect catching,
acrobatic chatterbox is garbed in black and white.
Overhead a falcon gliding
wheels and dives, hones in, colliding,
nail-gun force in outstretched claws which strike and lock in tight.
Falcon's talons raking feathers,
small-boned bird eludes caged tethers,
spirals down to dropp within a crown of needled pine.
Cradled safe in twiglet fences,
Wagtail blinks, regaining senses,
splintered wing hangs limply from a slashed and bloodied spine.
Wagtails are unused to resting,
soon, the broken bird is testing,
asymmetric fluttering as painful minutes slip.
Drifting, slowly dehydrating,
ants begin investigating;
as they nip, it hops, retreating, reaching pine limb's tip.
Still it watches insects flicking,
body clock's insistent ticking,

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poem by Diane Hine
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The Chameleon Crawl.

The baby, palms planted,
arms straight and stomach grounded,
moves with........not a crawl,
more of a mudskipper wriggle.

Next day, same stance,
gingerly brings both knees forward,
belly and pelvis now precariously hoisted
ten centimetres up;
the body plane tracing
a slight asymmetrical figure of eight
on four unsteady limbs,
like a table top with loose pinned legs.

Tiny hip and shoulder joints;
slippery as beginners on skates.
Tender muscles twitching.

Brain and nerves fully engaged;
sensory input, predictions, transmissions,

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poem by Diane Hine
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At sixes and sevens

Minds are avid part-time sleuths
half asleep with sensors set.
Whet by fret and tripped by threat,
laying bare conflicting truths.
Inside private polling-booths
clues are vetted, outcomes bet.

Living things which move need brains,
tuned response to changing world.
Evolution's path unfurled
specialized machine which trains.
Trial and error process strains
random information swirled.

Primed to spark at fresh events,
disregarding flat surround.
Honed for nature's battleground,
immanent expedience.
Guessing probable percents,
how an outlay may rebound.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Time-crossed Lovers

Rocket ships were crossing paths at near the speed of light;
solo voyagers, boy and girl, both escapees in flight.
Brushing past, each looked within the others inner space,
pensive faces noted shipboard clocks' unequal pace.

Seemed as if each others time ran slower than their own,
pressing home how destiny had cast them off alone.
Knowing how inertial frames are relatively cast,
yet it felt as if their lives were disappearing fast.

Destinations calculated, to the heavens hurled;
onboard navigation systems, led to chosen worlds.
Ah, but love had other plans and interfered with fate;
he prepared to turn his ship while she slowed down to wait.

Recklessly, he risked the hull to brake and alter course;
months it took, with heavy strain, deceleration's force.
Further months to trace her path and match her slackened speed,
driven by an overwhelming solitary need.

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poem by Diane Hine
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