Quiet, warm night ...

 

Quiet warm night. 

My cat has 

given up calling 

for me. I’m

lethargic in the 

newly arrived heat,

so is she.

I try not

to think of 

the many tasks

awaiting my attention,

but float on

my idle thoughts …

I bring home ...

 

I bring home, from cocktails for two

with my friend ‘the other Rosemary’,

(we are each that to each other)

the leftover guacamole, home-made.

The hummus, we agreed, would be hers.

We looked out over her view of trees.

Her little dog insisted on being patted.

We aired and shared our different views,

admitting them to each other frankly,

with perfect, good-humoured acceptance.

For no reason I know ...

For no reason I know, my iPhone offers me 

Frank Sinatra singing nostalgic, romantic ballads. 

September Song … and I remember my stepfather 

singing that to Mum, rejoicing in their late life love. 

My mind wanders, next, to Andrew and me, and ours. 

Strangers in the Night … and I think of my own 

quick young fallings in love at first sight (sweet 

they were)…. But mostly I’m reminded of my first 

husband, Don, who loved the voice of the great 

Frankie. A brief, ill-matched marriage, but our 

early days were full of music and dance, theatre and 

parties, rides on the back of his cute motor scooter, 

or to balls in taxis, dining out, swapping books, playing 

with the kitten I ended up keeping … and always, 

as background, the smooth, easy tones of Sinatra.

My mother drops in ...

 

My mother drops in 

unexpectedly, 

her energy signature 

as unmistakable

as her physical face in life.

When I notice, 

I say, ‘Hello, Mum’

(just as acknowledgment, 

greeting; not expecting 

conversation). She’s only 

here a moment. I think 

it must mean 

she’s pleased for me

about my book launch, 

perhaps even proud.

The vet and ...

 

The vet and her nurse arrive about 4

for the monthly clip of Poppi’s claws.

(My arthritic hands won’t). ‘How was

your Open Day?’ I ask. ‘Very good. 

How was your book launch?’ ‘Lovely!’

Pity they clashed! We invited each other

before we realised. Poppi herself is glad

my book launch is over. Preparing for that

took time she’d have preferred I spend 

with her – lately, strangely, it almost seemed 

I must have forgotten her supreme importance.

The first friend...

 

The first friend I ever made

here in the Caldera – 29 years ago! – 

brings me for late birthday / early xmas

a surprise hamper, chosen with thought 

for a new vegan. Pesto, chocolates, 

crackers, mixed nuts and seeds,

mayonnaise, plum jam, olive oil …

all organic in one-person sizes, and 

a cake of scented, hand-made soap –

along with a hug that was a mutual 

happy-dance, thrilled for my triumph.

As well as purchasing my new books.

Frankie arrives ...

Frankie arrives for the weekend,

carts all the books for the launch

down my front steps to her car

bundle by bundle by bundle,

cooks me a tasty vegan casserole

she prepared at home (though she

isn’t vegan) and makes me laugh a lot,

over a glass of cab merlot (organic).

Then we both decide on a good rest

before all the fun we expect tomorrow.

'What a gorgeous picture ...'

 

‘What a gorgeous picture of you!’

they cry. I can never see it. But

today, I think I understand: I am 

actually 84! I might need to accept that. 

For two years past, deep in my memoir, 

I’ve been 42 again in my head. I try

to look from the outside now. Yes, OK,

this might indeed be a very nice photo 

of an old woman … a happy old woman.

The chickens ...

  

The chickens are coming home 

   at last, to roost – in a good way.

Loose ends are getting tied up, 

   old stories being rounded out.

Folks die, get slotted into place,

   some details only now revealed.

Pretty earrings ...

 

Pretty earrings caught my eye.

Feeling slightly wicked, I asked the price.

Affordable! And I’d just had a birthday….

It was only at home, unwrapping them,

that I saw ‘Thank you for supporting

a Tasmanian designer’ and then

‘Launceston’ – my birthplace.

How sweet that the town I grew up in

nurtures, now, a maker of earrings,

earrings which found me for my birthday,

84 years after that first birthday

in the hilly little town at the end

of the river and under the mountains.

Thank you, dear Tasmanian designer!

Today's oracle ...

 

Today’s oracle advises 

a need to overcome

feelings of scarcity and loss.

I must have succeeded! 

I found a water bottle

missing for weeks, and 

my car keys ditto. (I do 

have spares, but I’m glad

and relieved they are now

spares again.) Then, 

in the shops I found 

all the items I needed 

at good low prices. 

I ate well, including a piece 

of birthday-present marzipan.

Reading haiku ...

reading haiku –

my morning coffee 

gets cold 

Driving into town, I realise ...

 

Driving into town, I realise: at my book 

launch I’ll see all these friendly faces! I 

say as much to one friend who works in 

the pharmacy, as I pick up my meds. 

When I walk out, there’s a big white 

feather across my path, which wasn’t 

there when I went in. 

‘Hello, Yasoda,’ I say, picking it up. (She 

told us before she passed that this would 

be the signal by which we’d know she was  

around.) ‘You’d have been there with bells 

on, wouldn’t you?’ Then I think – well, 

maybe she still will.

the love of friends –

made visible, tangible

by their presence 

(On my bench at home.)

I cannot think ...

 

I cannot think of him

without that old rage rising –

the abusive bastard 

you fell in love with 

all those years ago;

and even after separation,

his ongoing mental torture, 

deliberately inflicted, with malice.

I could see you wilting, dying,

driven crazy, made weak….

Of course I did the mother

of all banishing spells!

Immediately, he left 

for the other side of the world

and you recovered, went on,

found real love, good love …

yet even now, the mere

passing memory…. Yes,

I am a being of love.

Yes, I could kill.