Friday, 30 November 2012

Neighborhood Heartache

West Footscray Heart Broken

Dave’s had a bottle smashed on the back of his neck,

Asked the neighbours to keep the music down,

His reply was violence,

Last time saw Dave was at my front door,

He had a bunch of purple Easter daisy from his garden,

The size of our lounge room- vivid purple turned my heart yellow,

Dave’s been away travelling – only just got back,

Check if he’s okay – give him our number, ring day or night-

 The night it unfolded- I came home to four police cars lining our street,

The violence  also insidiously spread to the bottle shop, slashed face, blood smeared down Dave’s duco of his white car-ugly red graffiti,

I went to the pool and I swam and swam- submerging my mind into the numbness of the rhythm, my arms pulling through the water hard and fast-

The quietness underneath the water blocked the screaming, the yelling, the sirens, the confusion, the sadness in my heart,

My West Footscray heart is breaking,

Why do some people see the world through violent eyes?

Gentle eyes can never comprehend this-

Dave rents a 40s weatherboard same as ours- worn with paint shedding hundreds of stories into the night sky,

Stories of other lands and dreams,

His house is a jungle of indoor plants and exotic pieces from far away places,

Out back there’s  a field of flowers Dave’s grown and a paddock of chooks-

A breathtaking   oasis of colour against the rusted corrugated  industrial skyline,

Dave’s field of flowers is so beautiful – I am moved to tears,

My West Footscray is a community so diverse and rich in culture ,

The woolshed and the corrugated iron fences, the railway goods yards,

The prickly pears and the vintage rose gardens, the industry, the trucks,

The diversity of families – a community of sharing, not violence,

…………and Dave’s flowers.


Rob 2012




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