City Dark

I dreamed of us walking through the Melbourne streets.
The city was dark. All the people walked around with candles of different shapes and sizes.
We shared a candle and watched the way all the candlelight shapes moved on the building walls.
You and I never felt so free in the ambience of no electricity, yet the city never looked so beautiful.
There was no coffee to drink, no sweets to eat, no food to feast, so we stood for a while looking at the Yarra River.
Thousands of people with candles moved along the river, over the bridges, and into the night.
We used our dying phone charge to take photos of this beautiful night.
When we awoke, the photos on our phones were all blank. You couldn’t erase the, “I love you” that escaped your lips.

Changing Landscapes

The vision is not that of the city;
Those lights do not shine here.

Instead, there are hills of green;
A cow moos in the distance.

At night the darkness is quiet,
as the rain touches the structure.

I thought I’d miss your charms,
as I think of all the things I could do.

Yet, when I lived as one of you,
I never did most of the things I could do.

Tempted to become a hermit,
I resist with both hands stretched out.

Yet in my heart there is turmoil,
for I didn’t come from the concreted hustle.

I’ve felt the land for most of my life,
yet I’ve resisted the call every single time.

Looking towards the rain covered green,
it might be time to embrace my truth;
I’m not so in love with the city as I once thought I was.

Australien Sun

Sometimes, when she sits on the step, she thinks about places. Places connect us to memories, as does music and scent.

She thinks of the cool water of Nelson Bay and the pretty lighthouse on the hill. This connects her to her sister.

She thinks of the grey days with coffee on every corner, a European feel, and a charm only Melbourne emits. This connects her to her home.

She thinks of young days with a hammer for macadamia nuts and corkscrews for coconut eyes in Mareeba. This connects her to her origins.

All of these memories play behind her eyes, as she looks to the red dirt full of cracks under the Australien sun.

The photo is of the place we hammered macadamia nuts as kids.