Woodend.

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Sitting in the shifting sun in the morning
It comes and goes in a rhythm,
like a heartbeat

The birds call – deep and light
In the kitchen, people talk and clean

Yesterday I remember seeing the grass in the paddocks
Rippling like an ocean – light dancing over its long wispy soft form

Kangaroos stood and watched us
You had a nap in the afternoon
We emerged sleepy, happy

Chasing an angel with curly blonde hair round the big backyard,
playing games;
‘Again?’

Cooking and eating and cleaning becomes a big ceremony
with so many people,
so many friends

Bees and flies buzz past my ear and the wind makes the trees talk low
I hear the kookaburras calling

by Freya Alexander

~

Freya's poem is featured in our Summer Zine #6 (free with every order in Summer), in response to the topic "play". 
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