Melbmourns

Melbmourns

Two hundred plus days-

Melbourne has been separated.

Two hundred plus days.

Over half a year-

longing-

to be reunited.

Over half a year-

Saint Paul’s cathedral bells-

have sung a lonesome hymm-

Echoing empty streets.

Under the clocks of Flinders Street Station-

a shadowless shell of what was.

Two-hundred plus days-

Unable to hug our friends and family-

to comfort them-

To comfort us.

Two-hundred plus days-

and counting-

always counting.

We are suffering.

#8? Stream of conciousness

#8? Stream of conciousness

Lakeside view, pelicans glide along the stillness of the water. Damp sea grass taints the delicate breeze. Little dog taps along, sniffing and snuffing questionable things. Clouds flow above, breaking every now and then to let the sun sneak through. Jet skis buzz whilst the boats do hum. Rolling hills ever varying shades of green. Sea birds squawk and squirm in-between their daily hunt. Lakeside view. Always a tantalising scene you be.

salt & sand

salt & sand

Salt tangled hair-

damp bathers cling against skin.

The seat-belts metal tongue leaves a scalding imprint.

Grains of sand dabble throughout the car.

Bare feet scatter across sun drenched asphalt.

Fish and chips linger within the ocean breeze.

Seagulls beg and pine for a chip or two.

Ice-cream seeps along sunburnt arms.

Sun shies away upon the horizon.

Such a day comes to an end-

as the waves calm towards the night.