Saturday, August 20, 2011

Hang on, it's still winter
Walking up the slope from town
blessed by perfumed vines, their scents
drawn into my clothes

fitover sunglasses
keeping my eyes dry, not watery
from glare. Going home

to a garden full of honeyeaters
in the flowering gums, bees
on the rosemary ...

only the heat indoors reminds me
the air is still chill to my mother
shawled, sleeping in her favourite chai
 Free Verse Weekend


  1. Jennie,
    Stopped by your blog after you left a comment on my own, and I must say that I am quite glad I did. I very much enjoyed my butcher about your blog, and will definitely be coming back again- your work has a very Robert Frost appeal.

    This piece here I found to be just a perfect slice of life presented beautifully for the world to taste in words. Namaste.