THROUGH THE VILLAGE
There was morning
and we were walking through the village
checking the river and the trees,
the fragile minuscule water drops -
three-dimensional hologram curtain
There was strength
rising from the earth
but we were silently searching
and a place to rest.
And above all
there was light
showing mirrors against walls and houses.
No smoke around:
readily we were tracking
the golden flames
among the photographs
of hidden watchwords.
Spring afternoon -
once and for all chinotto and bitter cherry smoke.
bread and cheese toasted by tomorrow
on crimson dusk veranda -
brick chinotto and black coffee with laughs.
spring tartan book covers
with unfolded pages
around the boutique tables.
Street views alive by tomorrow.
GREEN ROOFS STORY
So blind sometimes!
You see, the roofs below are covered in green -
from picnic office blueprints –
and are caught in small fluorescent tiles
limited by outskirts.
Blades of steel grass design the shapes of the houses:
not to grow
but to irrigate the meaningful structure.
the helicopters overfly the town
and find small breaches: brown, red, orange holes
along the river road.
Eastern Winds are often stolen.
They cry every time in fear.
Green they are afraid of.
Grass is what they see.
Sydney, June 2019