The sun behind me

The sun behind me
watching a bird's shadow fly
on the wattle bloom

That nascent moustache

That nascent moustache
incongruent on his face
taught my son to shave

Golden dots on sticks

Golden dots on sticks
a firework frozen in light
varnish wattle blooms

Birdsong is changing

Birdsong is changing
as I am awake to hear
spring days start early

Dirt under my nails

Dirt under my nails
pile of uprooted clover
tending the good weeds

As the seasons change

As the seasons change
whistling outside my window
a new melody

Eyeing her subject

Eyeing her subject
pencil dancing on the page
I watch Jo draw plants

Yellow explosion


Yellow explosion
heralding spring's arrival
wattles in blossom

Icy August wind

Icy August wind
drills a way through my garments
on clear sunny days

The walls closing in

The walls closing in
toes numb under the covers
another cold night

Both my youngest kids

Both my youngest kids
listening to Hamilton
murmuring lyrics

Feels like younger days

Feels like younger days
shunning sleep to finish work
dreaming while awake

His whole face crinkles

His whole face crinkles
folds in a kind of softness
accommodating me

Caught in the moment

Caught in the moment
words tumbled out from my mouth
their look hides disgust

My bike was stolen

My bike was stolen
I worked through emotions quick
still I lost a day

Some have forgotten

Some have forgotten
our most humanest birthright
creativity

Enjoy that moment

Enjoy that moment
reflecting on reflection
self-love is still love

Motivation slips

Motivation slips 
among gaps in to-do lists
it must be Friday

I met on the road

I met on the road
among dumped expectations
the end of the year

For fifty dollars

For fifty dollars
the curls that framed his young face
all dropped to the floor