It's the Poet

 Twilight walk
to the Merri Creek
Birds
are singing praises to the daylight end
and the coming of the night
Winter
the equinox has past
and the snow is heavy in the alps
There’s rain in the air
I wish it would pour
We
my child and I
love the rain
I wish it would pour
and wet my face and my hair
Saw a man in the rotunda
I smiled
I thought it was the poet
But it was a man with a camera
photographing a willy wagtail
chattering a protest in the new pond
I wish it was him
Maybe he’d have introduced me
to the ducks that he knows



Today
is
two days away
from the end of an era
Today
I wrote 3 cheques
to appease the fever
of the oncoming GST
I’ve managed to ignore
the hype
In two days
everything goes up
and somethings come down
As a gesture
I take advantage
of two
pre GST
discounts offered
The music school
the overdue studio hire
and the other

a parking fine
gone into second phase
due tomorrow
Really
what is the use
I’m already $100 short on the rent
Call my mother and my sister
for help
If they can
But I’m a lucky one
I can stand on this spot
where I’ve never stood before
by the creek
Lucky
to the left of me
a still lagoon
to the right
a spill of bubbly water over rocks
as the creek
makes it’s way to the river
I can find peace
Lucky
$5 in my purse
I can recite
a prayer of abundance
and every now and then
collapse into tears
of
wishing it was easier
The dark is coming
I will walk on.
Back up the track and in the park
on my way home
I see a man
I stop
I think
maybe it’s the poet
I watch the man walking a drunk walk
I am walking toward him
as I get closer
I see it is the photographer
looking up into the trees
Home
The phone rings
it’s the poet.
© 2000