We won’t need to praise change
Hung on tippytoes like the vine and the native wood
immolating across the net and barbed wire
Sided by burnt yellow, brushed with life, the memory of a fatherland can be healed.
The notion —
That we most truly love the boundaries we fail to see
An ancient light multiplies, an optical illusion of forgetfulness
& forgettable become the steam, the fire, the electricity.
To cherish this land, I aspire. Not by blood born, not cast by mother: the fox and the ‘roo. The square light framed by the eucalyptus, the disinviting spider and its fast web.
About the Creator
Avocado Nunzella BSc (Psych) -- M.A.P
Asterion, Jess, Avo, and all the other ghosts.
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More stories from Avocado Nunzella BSc (Psych) -- M.A.P and writers in Poets and other communities.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This is another great one, Jess. First line is striking and the rest is gorgeous