Breathe ~ Relax ~ Drink Black Tea Often
A little pink house
Waiting for the one someone
who loves at first sight
The garden of trees
went missing on the weekend
Stumps dream of new growth
The cold snap brings wind
and wafts of Vicks on the air
We follow the sun
Chimney, antenna
Old and new converge above
conversation space
A seabird arrives
to remind us of oceans
measured in wingflaps
Jeffrey Smart’s paintings
are here in the tin and brick
of my local streets
Kids, parents, teachers,
Organised footpath chaos
Lookouts keep their cool
Early morning moon
fights the sun for attention
It needn’t worry
A lost luggage tag
left to its own devices
Where is it welcome?
Owners sunbaking
with their magnificent cars
Metal showing off
Walking the footpath
I am welcomed by jewels
Leaf points in the sun
Cracks in the pavement
Nature always finds a way
to outperform us
Around the corner
dead earthworms on the footpath
Late birds catch nothing
Flowers stretch their stems
Escaping their humble roots
without leaving home
The tip of a pen
is more powerful than war
It is war’s mother
Lost bicycle chain
starts its new life as a snake
impersonator
In the intervals
between traffic bursts and shrieks
I hear my breath
How good is the ‘hood?
No wreaths have been vandalised
They’re on self-destruct
Wind on a fine day
brings a hint of winter’s chill
Autumn playing games
Racing stripes on cars
ensure fast delivery
of some perceptions
An intersection
People, dogs, bicycles, cars
Each one knows a way
Moving van full, kids
in the car, keys surrendered
They leave us for good
Summer is long gone
But reminders appear
to raise our spirits
At the library
Searching for just the right book -
Contenders galore
Memorial walls
don’t alphabetise the dead
Ranks thin randomly
Leon’s bench and tree
Silent invitations to
sit and wait a while
The library’s trees
shade their bookish relatives
Living inky dreams
On the way to school
Children and mothers thinking
of different days
Discarded trolley
Sunbaking a novelty
Awaiting rescue
After Anzac Day
wilting wreaths beneath campaigns
There is room for more