Omens of bees and dusky mornings,
Things are changing,
I am changing.
xxx
Removed from the urgency
I watched as the winged stingers orbited the Acland-Barkly intersection.
It was a fascinating sort of pallor;
Reservations of personal unease.
And as they churned and churned
Finally depositing to rest,
The afternoon shone through again.
xxx
It's the season of the fires.
In this crackling dry
Charred leaves flew down South.
The sky was lit a Mexican orange
Driving to work it felt like sunset.
xxx
I've watched the fig tree grow.
Pregnant with fruit - Fruitless - Leafless - Bare - Buds - Lush - Pregnant with fruit.
Have you, too, kept vigil while I grew?
Not one for subtle waves
I've noticed only when things were too changed to change.
xxx