My poem Park Bench was recently published in Swamp Writing. See: http://www.swampwriting.com/?page_id=540
Everyone has a place in this park
a space to sit, escape chaos, to dwell,
zest of gum trees, hibiscus halos,
agapanthus lined like pews in a pulpit.
Up top where the birds of paradise crane
nosey necks, there’s the smoochers
shrouded in a cloud of smoke—
all glazed eyes and giggly.
Midway on the slope by the roses and palms
the pigeon lady and her faithful flock gather,
everyday at three she scatters seeds
to the clucking clamouring mass.
The freckly lady sits upright eyes closed.
Not seeing the God-given green, the tinkling stream.
Willing the world away, her veins unfurl
sturdy roots rich in soil.
At the bottom there’s a stand off –
homeless Les drinking his tinnies
hides in the rockery, tangled dreadlocks
like willow sap hang in ropey strands.
She knows he’s there, the girl with the dogs
hears his slurring, ranting mantra.
In the scrap of sun she sits—oblivious,
steeped in spacious botanical breath.
I would love your comments on this poem. Sydneysiders may be interested to know the inspiration came from the beautiful Ivanhoe Botanical Park, Manly, NSW.