For John
In Balmain
beautiful Sydney Harbour
glints a little,
white clouds puff along
above you,
strolling
in your
mustard canvas sneakers,
you're feeling
kind of bouncy
on a sponge
of flattened
autumn leaves.
the morning sun
lights up
giant abbreviated letters
on the bulky red
and blue and silver
and orange containers
packed squat
on the wharf.
back at home
email's streaming
into the airy study.
so much
to attend to,
you take your chair,
check its ergonomics,
the lively black dog
leaps a-lap,
out through the window
in the softly restless tree
some pesky eye-level
wattle-bird
croaks its crawk -
must be time
to make
some poems
