With all their long toes,

the trees stand in the floodlight --


of the poppy field.

Silvery glaucous

leaves sail away from the trees --


Little crescent moons.

I feel apart of this hick town place
Breathing in life, through open, clean air
Trapped by my mind in a wide open space

My granddad showed me on his Gum tree
The marks left by moths and beetles alike
I went to touch them whilst he let them be

The Scribbly Gum tells the same story
Our lives intertwined in memories
The aftermath of destruction, can be beauty

My chubby hands admire what my eyes miss
like a blind man hungry for the verse
I feel the indented trails, lead me into the abyss

I envy those tiny critters, hiding away
creating art without even knowing
One day I shall  join them and there I shall stay

Dancing glimpses of times past
The smell of eucalyptus sticking to hot air
Pulling, aching strings of my childish heart