I'm taking my son for a Yarra walk
I'm taking my son for a Yarra walk.
His BMX weaves between amblers ahead.
When he stops, I catch up - we've time to talk.
His "hurry ups" my plaintive, "watch the edge..."
Calm haze; a languid lazy afternoon.
Without the sunscorching need for a hat.
Prone, placid lovers embrace and croon.
On-loan - a river painting by Seurat.
A standing orchestra bows, and then packs.
Dying embers, dregs of afternoon wine.
Seagulls glide, longer shadows lead us back
Through leaf fall’s rustling, wavering lines.
I drink in reflections - all aquiver.
A splash! He's ridden into the river...
His BMX weaves between amblers ahead.
When he stops, I catch up - we've time to talk.
His "hurry ups" my plaintive, "watch the edge..."
Calm haze; a languid lazy afternoon.
Without the sunscorching need for a hat.
Prone, placid lovers embrace and croon.
On-loan - a river painting by Seurat.
A standing orchestra bows, and then packs.
Dying embers, dregs of afternoon wine.
Seagulls glide, longer shadows lead us back
Through leaf fall’s rustling, wavering lines.
I drink in reflections - all aquiver.
A splash! He's ridden into the river...
[Sonnet from a collection by S.C.N. Pockley]
(CC) reserved by Simon Pockley [1041] I try to respond within 24 hours
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