look up

You woskyuldn’t believe me if
I painted a sky this blue
But look up – there it is –
and every day it’s new.

 

With the last six months of drought, fires and then COVID, and now the current unrest in the US and the protests in Australia too, I find I’m turning more and more to my immediate surroundings for reassurance that the world is not ending.
Growing up in Melbourne, my prevailing childhood memory of the sky is drizzling grey. In the southern tablelands of NSW (away from the brown exhalations of Canberra) the sky seems to be almost always an astonishing clear deep blue – especially in winter. It surprises me and brings me joy every day.   

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Filed under musings, poem

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