Day 6 noun + colour + verb picture
Shining black signs
overlook the concourse
but cannot detect
the orange cables
packed tight and trapped
above grey pillars –
as your father’s legs
locked to earth
while he swung you
around his maypole body.
nab* letters are white, the star red.
Medibank is a red-letter display
with a blue ‘i’.
Between our stationary train
and those high proprietorial signs
green grasses bob in reaction to wind
dirty white bunting (five triangles only) twitches
and a square-cut red light pole reaches
halfway up the building almost
fully-constructed. Night green,
its façade of triangular windows glares.
He would have dropped you
suddenly and there, outraged
by the destruction
of horizon, sunshine’s benevolence,
the long and far-sighted view.