Melbourne Winter Morning
Our winter here
is not severe
and lasts less than
a quarter of a year.
Yet - spreading peanut butter
on her morning toast
before I take her tray to her,
I think, dream, image most
some future morning,
spring or early summer,
when we're out of here,
well down the coast road,
humming beside the cliff-
views of surf, ocean,
and blue Bass Strait...
curving down then to Lorne,
lucky town and long beach,
its pier where we've stood
astonished by a show-off whale
spouting for a holiday crowd.
The old evergreen shade trees
will be at their best,
and the young people at play
eye-catchingly undressed.
The well-stocked book exchange
will beckon invitingly,
and the rival ice-cream shops
advertising excitingly.
Winter mornings, the wife's
expecting that peanut-butter toast,
and the dogs by the bed drooling
for their tiny piece of crust.
And me in the cold kitchen
holding out for that slide
down the hill into Lorne,
the sun warm and the water wide.
Max Richards
Doncaster, Melbourne
Wednesday 23 August 2006
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