sun-tanned hands / electrical energy

A POEM FOR ALL THE WOMEN WHO HAVE MADE ME BRAVE.

The breeze feels like a dream,

Warm, thick with citronella

It caresses our bare arms under the ancient backyard banksia

As we spin

Revolving and evolving with hands interlaced and

Dew-coated feet.

Her frame is engulfed in a pink cloud of dress and

The neighbour’s cat yowls as

She holds us in her palms.

Her roots dig deep, she is

Strong, she is

Soft.

We’ve passed time together forever I think

With sun-soaked skin we’ve watched a million waves break and

At dinner tables she speaks in jokes,

Commands laughter from my drunken mouth.

She wears her scars as humour now,

They’re initials carved in bark.

They’re a tangled mess of spiderwebs

Glowing silver,

Shimmering raindrops.

On a fleeting November afternoon

A violent storm threatened and inched

Closer,

Closer,

Irate and indigo.

We smiled at the bush sounds, watched birds in streaky skies

And on an empty beach we lay together,

beckoned clouds close until

They passed us over.

We watched unflinchingly,

Fearless and stubborn,

Two flannel flowers swaying on a wild headland’s edge.

Our memories are ash now,

Spread over land and on seaweed-strewn shores.

They’re stories retold and wishes on stars

And regularly I forget that I’m made of them—

That without them I wouldn’t be me.

I’m braver now, because of her,

I sit in solitude amongst creaking gums.

Shadows loom,

Darkness swallows,

And I sleep in the moonlight,

Warm and bold.