A degrading plastic bag
bursts with pebbles
from your native garden.
There’s a stone axe-head
we need to return.
I have your tree tapestry and
a love of native sarsaparilla.
I remember your wonga pigeon call—
palms shaped just so—
how it annoyed me!
.
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For some reason, the last stanza made me chuckle. Memories are strange.
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I like to be provocative lol; thank you for commenting, it means a lot : )
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These words hit me right away… Your whole piece feels like it’s holding grief and memory side by side. I’m so sorry for your loss, Catherin. This is a beautiful tribute.
Much love,
David
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thank you so much David! this grandfather died nearly forty years ago (wow), but I went to one of his favourite places in the Aussie bush yesterday so he was with me again
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that’s lovely
*hug*
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I love that last line. It is so true. The things that annoy us the most are the things we miss the most when they are gone.
Thank you for participating in the prompt!
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I feel bad about it annoying me…and I’d appreciate it more now, perhaps
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”There is a stone axe-head / we need to return” I find this line deeply poignant. Your poem is truly touching, Catherin 💕
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Thank you Lesley…my grandfather born in 1902 truly loved the Australian bush, but Caring for Country has a different resonance today
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A very powerful poem- especially that wonderful unsentimental (and so true ) ending.
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Thank you Kim. It annoyed me so much! I guess he had limited repertoire for engaging with us grandkids lol
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It was not only the amount of times he repeated it, but perhaps also the fact that it was impossible for me to replicate…
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🥴
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The powerful memories of our loved ones. Well said.
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Thank you so much!
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I love every line of this poem for all the reasons mentioned above
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Oh thank you Jess
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