Paint a primary-coloured afternoon:
green, green trees –
not the dull yellow-grey-khaki of eucalypts
but the bright clear greens of picture-book trees.
Dab them with circles of pink and yellow,
to make a thousand tiny plums like Christmas baubles.
Add a sweep of black road
rising in a hump over a railway line,
don’t forget the white lines emphasising the curve.
Now fill in the sky,
just blue, and more blue, and more
until the page is so saturated
it cannot hold any more.
Finish with some fine details:
a pair of train-spotters with their cameras
leaning on the bridge railing, waiting.
Now, save this picture:
fill a bag with blue and green, pink and yellow,
sweet-tart, glossy-smooth but dusty from a passing train,
take it home and pour it into jars,
and add them to the pantry-album of summer afternoons.
Tag Archives: jam
1200 December 14th, Goulburn railway bridge
Filed under poem
I want to write something about spring
I want to write something about spring,
about the scent of the tomato seedlings on the window sill
about the way the tiny glassy hairs on their stems catch the sunlight
and glitter like gold and silver tinsel. Continue reading
Filed under poem
When autumn leaves
In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, “autumn leaves”:
When autumn leaves, she leaves behind
forgotten treasure for us to find:
sweet chestnuts, spiky as a curse,
bright windfalls for this year’s preserves.
Then we fill our jars with bright sunlight
to see us through dark winter nights.
Filed under poem
sunlight in a jar
With a pop
a ghost is released Continue reading