the two
pelicans sail into
the dark
shadow of the bridge
native shrubs are flowering on the shore
I long to
see the bread and butter flower
of my
mountain childhood
more like
bread, butter and vegemite flower
the
mangrove is already fruiting
and the
wattle is in bud
walking towards
an oncoming couple
and a
cyclist
something
has to give
and it's me
on the
shortest day of the year
it's
natural that you be sick
and in
decline
but what we
call winter
is actually
Australian spring
the
funereal paintings in the gallery
showing some
blonde women
half
obliterated
the left
over funeral flowers in vases
still
persisting
welcome back, Anna! This is beautiful, poem and image.
ReplyDeleteThanks Efi, feeling a bit non-artistic.
ReplyDeleteSo good, Anna. Like the pelicans are night and day and the solstice has temporarily split our attentions. The errant cyclist. The paintings. The illness. We grow stronger
ReplyDeleteThanks Rob. Yes, I was thinking of contrasts.
ReplyDeletea really beautiful progression in the text and lovely moment in the image. were you aware the pelican is an old symbol of nurturing and sacrifice?
ReplyDeletedidn't know that about pelicans, thanks. They are so special
ReplyDelete