06 March 2014

My captain

My captain sails alone
Of companions he has none
To call his own
And no place called home.

My captain sails alone
Only the journey for rest
He visits every nest
But finds no place to stay.

My captain sails alone
And weary now I hear him.


This was written a year or even two ago, at a guess.

For a change of scenery, today after work I went to Mt Ainslie to play some flute with the sunset.

A sharp abundance of mosquitoes proved a pernicious and persistent audience while I tried find my place in music.

Their bites are better than bull ants I must say.

So many things seem to have bitten me lately that any discomfort has become remarkably short-lived.

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