Trees in the Street

Hot day, cool breeze. The woman serving me in the craft shop notices that the leaves on the trees are moving. She says she remembers those trees being planted in the street, ten years ago.  ‘So small! And now look how beautiful they are.’ They are wattles, taller than the roofs of the shops.

The Salt and Pepper Pots

The salt and pepper pots

are stout and squat

with a cheerful air —

like friendly gnomes

at my dinner table.

A Blowy Day

The wind comes gusting up the valley with low howls. My chimes ring over and over on the front veranda, sending echoes down the street and across the hill.

Sudden Birdsong Bursts

Sudden birdsong bursts

through my door
closed against the heat.

My Rainbow Sun-Hat

The rings of my rainbow hat

go purple, indigo, blue,

green, yellow, orange, red —

just as they should for a rainbow.

They start from the rim

and work their way into the middle,

where they coil to make a big round spot

purple over the crown — as that, too, should be.

My rainbow sun-hat keeps me shaded

and brightens other people’s faces.

They stop and grin. They say,
‘You’re looking very colourful. I love it!’

Cool Change

Feel the wild, cold storm rush in

after the long, slow day of  heat.

Feel the sharp lift begin and gather pace,

the rustle and stir of leaves grow loud,
and the frogs croak faster, faster.

Evening Kookaburras

Every evening the kookaburras laugh

loud on the street outside my door.

I love to hear their explosions of joy.

I rush out and never catch sight of them

but I know they are here, visiting again
after months of silence, with their rollicking song.