The thaw will happen

Frost is a fool's white
covering the tangle of tales
told in the night,
gossip whispered between friends,
those susceptible to listening
and those downright
dedicated to departing secrets.
And like any tale told, frost
that freezes the ground
soon dissipates
under the sun's strokes.

The ducks will wait

He sat in the park, tossing
bread to ducks, watching

toddlers tumble, stumble
to fly. He left a smile,

a promise to the ducks
that tomorrow he'd borrow

more bread.

Their wishes were not so elusive

They pass beyond our fingertips, dead
moving on to a new dawn leaving
vivid memories. We remember

the times they played on the stage
a parody of love shared, erotic
sensual displays where limbs tangled

and laughter drove day dreams.
We remember how clear tears
traced mascara trails on cheeks

when they knew there was a last act,
and we remember how they held
us tight, ignored our chewed nails

and tried to steal our pain.

The trees leave too

Each day I watch the forest
ride the rails. Horizontal
trees on a parallel track
travelling to the wharf, loaded
on ships to sail the Tasman.
On sunny days
our forest lays down
and rides the rails.

Even the birds have reasons

There's a curl on her cheek
as she sits watching
birds on the wing, darning
dreams with brown eyes daring
the day to end. They land
and she waits to watch
them leave, to fly free.
When they don't, waterfalls
tumble. Caught in the curl
they're brushed away
to be forgotten
after nightfall.