Tag Archives: home

Home II

 

It won’t be contained
this home of mine
not by political borders
geographic boundaries

 

We shall see the desert
rainforest, ocean vast
The aurora borealis,
phantasmagoric
will delight us each night

 

No, it won’t be contained
by the prison of time
each moment framed
as before or after
it will always be now

 

Smudges on doorjambs
echoing feet
laughter and tears
our capricious whims sated

Suburban haven

An acacia yellow house sits
On a tree-lined street
Snug behind a fence of a similar hue
Posts the blue of school uniforms
Matching the windows and eaves

 

Winter, and so the trees are bare
Earlier they had shed their plate-like leaves
A few still litter the ground
Look to the Southwest and glimpse
City spires, with lights that glimmer all night

 

Despite the chill the garden is
Fragranced, a bounty of colour
Honey-like scent of frothy cream alyssum
Luculia flowers of palest pink emit
A heady perfume, lingering like spice

 

Wattlebirds chuck chuck in the Silver Princess
Her pendulous branches, silvery filigree
Red flowers laced with gold
A charcoal-stained terracotta birdbath on a
Carpet of Wedgwood-blue daisies

 

Walk to the door now
Up the brick path
Passing between plums now budding for Spring
Cast your eyes over to luminous orange
Tangelos and mandarins hanging sweetly

 

Open the primrose door gently
For the deco glass is fragile
Enter the wide hall of broad pine boards
Flooded with light
Warm with promise

 

Vibrant paintings hang on
Walls of creamed butter
While vases of blooms and riotous foliage
Jostle for space on every surface
Lavender and orange fill the air

 

Around you the evidence of
Rich family life
Garish plastic toys jumbled on the floor
Between car-bedecked beds
Of two small boys

 

Rich timber fills the kitchen
Above a slate floor
Cooking accoutrements litter the benches
Familiar jumbled mess
Perpetually recurring

 

Perhaps you’ll collect a cup of tea
On your way to the lounge
To sit upon the tired brown couch
Windows face east, north and south
Bringing light and warmth

 

And through those windows you can view
Kaleidoscopic sunrises
The birth of the moon
Expansive sky uncluttered
Over a verdant park

 

Looking over the productive yard
You can also watch
Joyous children run all day
Dogs tumble and wrestle and the
Soccer teams practice and play

 

Lunch at the weathered red gum table
Eat fruit from the trees
Regard the fish in the pond
Chase dogs on the grass
Lean on the deck, review the day

 

For here is a haven
Unexpectedly so
A suburban haven
A place to rest, to heal
To grow new roots

Gloaming

Through the gloaming I walk
The forest floor
Quiet beneath my feet
Scent of moist decay
Of fungi
Moss
Lichen

 

It is Winter
A lyrebird calls
His song echoes in the mist
Reverberating, an invitation
To dance
Mate
Love

 

The light is fading now
A wallaby
Thuds her erratic path
Pauses, inspecting me
Watches
Turns
And leaves

 

Out of the darkness I emerge
Invigorated by cold
Gravel scrunches beneath my feet
Warm yellow glow
A light
Hearth
Home

Through my kitchen window

I stand at the sink
Careworn, well used
Washing dishes
Regarding the view
The coloured glass
Refracts the light
Bends the image
Rendering it more beautiful

 

It is not a majestic view
Rather, domestic
Familiar
Of rhododendrons ebullient with colour
A wooden fence, a brick path
A line of eucalypts
Bark hanging, caught
On its fall to the ground

 

Across the gravel lane
A verdant hill climbs
Grazed by cows
Traversed by children and dogs
Laughter
Squeals of delight
A soundtrack
Of birdsong and the whisper of trees

 

Later, I stand at the sink once more
Battered, discoloured
Broken, it lies at my feet
No window remains
Nor the view
Blackened trunks
Bare earth
Ash obscures the path

 

The familiar destroyed
In its place
Charred remains
Unearthly silence
A police car, its occupants
Here to search for the dead
In this alien landscape
Through my kitchen window

Home

Four walls, a floor
A roof over one’s head
Windows framing a view
Repository of memories
Safety, a haven

 

And yet, it is not

 

Destroyed
A blackened mess of iron
Detritus of life
Fragments only, the whole
Torn asunder

 

And yet, it is not

 

Four chambers, a muscle
A place for courage
Of love, hope, meaning
Repository of memories
Safety, a haven