throwing curtains to the wind
i write
as Ravel unravels on the player
the wishbone dries above
a pencilled draft of
last night's poem
bills litter the feet
of my red and yellow Buddha
sunning himself in Aussie sunshine
Toots Thielemans is flavouring Faure
Sunday morning detritus
celebrating another day above ground
watch the bee as you drive out
as it suns itself drunkenly
on the faded cement
so many tracks in memory
Ravel Buddha bees
and bathing in April sun
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