On a cliff above a cold, desolate shore, a weather-beaten house perches precariously, peering into the churning sea. At dusk, as the waves roar and sand flays the skin and storm-clouds loom, some might glimpse a light in a high window. Take refuge there, and let its ghosts tell you their stories with the wind that whispers through the walls and the groaning of the ancient timber.
The 2015 Queensland Poetry Festival gave Lina Paul and I the opportunity to join powers again, to create three tales of longing and loss, memory and myth, and the call of the sea. Here is the full performance: