The old man sat apart

The old man sat apart

Watching the world

Through a prism of historical interest

A mother laughed hysterically

When she lost her balance

Falling from a paddleboard

Into the waiting water,

A tropical estuary

Freshly salted.

Her young daughter stifled a grin

Safe in the knowledge

She would not fall in

The air, heavy with humidity.

Kookaburras fulfil their duty

In maniacal audience participation.

A concord of walkers,

Happy to browse,

Scan through coffee shops,

Brimming with flat whites,

Looking for friends

Hoping to spend time

Discussing the price of houses

The cost of private education

The tax on superannuation.

A party ferry awaits,

Well dressed guests

Already stuffed full of goodwill

Carry gifts and well wishes

From the car to the boat.

So many dreamers

Wishing they could float

Out of sight and sound of their

Moaning partners

Bullying fathers,

Punch-drunk mothers,

Beaten down by the daily pretence

Of duty,

Unfairly blamed

When all they wanted was a quiet life,

‘Cocktail hour’ gets earlier every day.

Four Italian greyhounds

Take their owner,

A dapper man, thoughtfully dressed,

For a morning walk.

He rued the day he bought them

But would never admit his mistake

They leave devastation in their wake

But little kids think they are cute.

Not like the mastiff

Tied by rope

In the back of a ‘ute,’

It is all the old man can do

Not to release it.

Perhaps he should

But he has seen what happens

To those seeking deliverance

And he had set himself up for a peaceful day,

On his own

By a river, close to the sea

A haven of tranquillity.

It is so easy,

A single photograph

Takes me back into mourning

Not that it is ever too far away.

The weight of it

In a pocket wallet

Can be as heavy as lead

Heavy of heart

Sent as a gesture

So sweetly done

So many old friends

Now dead.

What is it with wildly flowering gardens

There is a symbolism to the kiss

The symmetry of intimacy

Whatever happened to the memory

When I was young enough

To feel so very different

About the future.

As with a kiss from a stranger

The urgency of youth

The curse of false promise

Carried within us

Even as the journey from then to now

Is foreshortened.

The moments that pass by

Are in between

And in retrospect

Too restlessly lived

Bleeding one into another,

Tender moments,

You know the scene,

Standing close together

In the garden

The kiss.

The bliss of ignorance

How vast is love

When so much is contained

Within a touch,

The future always unknown

And thank goodness for it.

How different would life be

With foreknowledge

The proximity of anxiety

The weight of indifference

The certainty of a conclusion.

Nothing about today is remembered

Even were it to be the last

No more getting out of bed

Or putting on shoes

Walking to a cafe

Wishing for something other

Than the mundanity

Of the ordinary.

Glad of it

When all is said and done

Without it, there would be chaos

The madness of the unexpected.

Neither knowing nor not knowing

Is ever good enough

Forever in need

Never content

Always suffering

Sometimes in silence,

Often not.

Today I thought of a sad kiss

In a garden

It was caught on camera,

Without the reminder,

I might have forgotten

Which in retrospect

Would be as much a betrayal

As the taking away.