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Monday, April 04, 2016

MEMORIES poem / 1st draft

On this warm autumn day
I remember my father, in
winter in the Fifties, driving
his shiny black V8 Pilot through
the overflowing Swan River
lapping over the Esplanade's
parameter road
and us kids - still
in shorts - riding barefoot on
the running boards. We were
having fun, such carefree fun
with our fun-loving father
at the wheel and our worried
mother beside him.


In the sailor's space of
my brother's VJ yacht

on blocks in our backyard
rain water gathered and

big leaves swam, life
rich with decay. I leant

over the edge, homework
done, parents absent, and dangled

a podgy hand into the shadows
in the waters, hoping, daring,

piranhas and leeches to
take my being away.

- Andrew Burke

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