Having been immersed in memoir writing for many months, I decided to write a small poem every day for a year to keep my poetic hand in. I've posted them to Instagram and facebook as written – where, to my amazement, people love them – but on this blog they are sometimes subject to later rewriting.
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Monday, 9 January 2023
A day in January ...
A day in January.
Celebration? Or remembering
invasion —
and all the horrors that followed.
Why can’t we change the date?
*
I emerge
from my left brain
to gaze up
at a hill of vines
pouring over the fence
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Comments are moderated. Please don't panic if they don't appear here immediately. (I live DownUnder, so if you're UpOver, time difference may cause delay.)