The Pink Flamingo and the Pelican

tonight sitting by the caravan park pool
with the blow up pink flamingo--
a pack of young boys
clamber in the pool
to tip each other over--
the plastic grass is soaked in chlorine
and sun burnt bodies are dressed
in fringed spangled swimwear--
a pet ostrich pecks
at fake grass insects--
I swim myself back to the lake
last night where spoonbills sifted mud
and we swam in the soft rippled quiet
watching a pelican carry the sun down

tonight--
a puddle of moon
on dry grass

swimming through
constellations--
how tiny our seas

out on the lake
black swans glide
on a smooth, silver course
and industry carves
the horizon

riding our bikes
alongside factories
we watch the sun set
on rows
of broken windows

On top of Possum Cave

On top of Possum Cave

Sound of mop squeezing

Swishing across linoleum floor

Fast legs escape outside into summer

Peppered by nasturtiums

 

Basking in morning sun on

Rough cement whilst

Peering into a dark space

Waiting for blue tongued lizard to emerge-

Learning patience and stillness

 

I leap to swing on the hills hoist

Looking skyward at dizzy clouds

Drop with a thud to roll

On summer buffalo to gaze at slow motion clouds

Through mosaicked sky of eucalypt

 

I traverse my worn track

Across the yellowed back paddock

Down the sprawling aniseed and box thorn

River valley to Possum Cave

Clustered granitic boulders

My dreaming rock ledge of escape

Soaring skyward

With the pair of white kites

And the skeletons of dead trees

Interlocking and twisting upwards.

 

In company of the Great Egret

I slow my thoughts

And breathe easy- far away

From the smell of polished

Linoleum and order

 

My small shadow is adult on the rock face

Tiny tanned arms wrapped  around my knees

I slowly unfurl

To sprawl across the rock

Lizard child-

Tightness is released

As I breathe in the sky.

 

This place is where

I come to ask all the questions

Of the sky, river, trees and birds

For they have always known the answers

To the hard questions

The answers drift up the Valley

In the seeds from golden grasses-

I am home

Rob 2014