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SEPARATION- by Lynette

Moments of irritation impossible now to recall

Annoying habits once leapt upon

lie buried by absence.

Your face's gaze intensified by distance

brushes against mine and ignites enthrall

Do you miss me?

Is love most luminous in memory?

And fervour multiplied by the miles between?

Is there a match for the enigma of separation

Or will we resume in perfect harmony?

Do you miss me?

Courage calters and shadows whisper warnings

Flickering images of hesitation hover

I shudder at your touch as you lean over

though continents lie between us and a thousand mornings.

 

REFLECTIONS


High blue skies

Birds screech and soar

Summer time.

Clouds darken

Wind stirs leaves

Curtains close.

Winter morning

Two cats nuzzled in sleep

One basket.

Somers Beach

A dolphin appears

Its snout black.

Bloody morning

America of course

Twenty-two dead.

A burned-out jeep

A parent's sorrow

Afghanistan today.

A hut among the trees

Birds sing and leaves rustle

Alone but not lonely.

SOMERS BEACH - by Lynette

Today was breathless. The huge sky a deep autumnal blue.

With no clouds to mar the palette

the gums, and tea-trees stood motionless. Barely a rustle.

Stillness.

A leisurely walk along the beach. Families splashed at the water's edge

and a man languidly tossed a fishing lie from the shore.

The bay was like glass.

Peace.

For a moment the bay calmed the pounding in my chest.

And stilled my anxious thoughts of your once strong hands now inert and wasted.

Sadness.

Remembrance of long nights as you struggled to quell the panic began to recede.

I forgot how frail you looked in the hospital chair.

Tenderness.

How bravely you struggled to smile away the inevitability of your death.

I walked the length of three beaches and rejoiced in the day.

For those precious minutes I forgot. I am sure I did.

Rush Hour

This train will terminate at Caulfield.

There’s a trespasser on the line.

Did you hear that? There’s a trespasser on the line.

Shit. What are we supposed to do at Caulfield?

Bloody idiot. Why don’t they just drag them down?

Attention Please. This train will terminate at Caulfield

There’s a trespasser on the line.

I’m going to miss my class.

The car park at Frankston will be closed and I have to get to Dromana.

I’ll have to get a taxi home then come back and get my car tomorrow. What a bloody idiot.

Why don’t they get one of those cherry pickers and haul them down?

Hundreds of people inconvenienced because of one idiot who can’t get their shit together? They should just leave them there.

Well, they can’t do that; the train has to use the power line they’re on.

Well, why don’t they just shoot them?

With a tranquilizer gun of course, not bullets.

This train will terminate at Caulfield.

Buses have been ordered to take you to Moorabbin.

Sure. By midnight if we’re lucky. Have you seen the traffic out there?

The buses won’t be able to get through even if some are available this time of day.

There are police everywhere now just standing around like robots.

Why can’t they do something? Just haul them down.


Who cares why they’re up there. They’re obviously a selfish bastard

who doesn’t care about anybody else.

NEW YEAR LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

- by Lynette

I make a cup of Lapsong Souchong

found last weekend in Nice –

and wonder what you did today -

in Australia ten hours ahead

of this snowy Copenhagen day.

I think how much we love travel

and memories of you wash over me.


My beautiful girl- my only child

redesigning your life at 50.

So few have the courage

to seek the creative,

and try out a new voice.

Even now when your world is trembling

you stand firm against the fear.


My Atlantic magazine claims new evidence

that we all become happier after 50.

Know this as a truth sweetheart.

Trust that you know what to do.

You don’t have to take this journey alone

My precious girl – my brave girl –

Our trust, our love, like this tea warms us both.

January 2015

Copenhagen, Denmark

*****************

ANZAC Day 2015

1915

They used horse-drawn gun carriages and mustard gas

And limbs were left behind amid bodies en masse

Boys killed in combat would become the lore

Was this our most terrible war?

1942

They landed at Dunkirk from amphibious craft

And limbs left behind were photographed

Cannons exploded and machine guns roared

Was this our most terrible war?

1952

Seoul was overrun without any warning

Limbs were left behind by the very next morning

It was the Chinese backers that we all abhorred

Was this our most terrible war?

1968

The Mekong came into living rooms via CNN

And limbs were left behind as Saigon was overrun

After Mi Lai some sought oblivion with a whore

Was this our most terrible war?

2006

We toppled Saddam and the world said thanks

And limbs were left behind in burnt out tanks

Suicide bombers don’t shock us any more

Was this our most terrible war?

Anzac Day 2015

We were shaped by Gallipoli and honed by Tobruk

Centre stage in Vietnam but only bit players as the Gook

Timor was only a skirmish but our boys made us proud

Then along came Iraq and anti-war cries divided the crowd

One hundred years of war we lamented today

When will we learn there is another way.

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