Amy
You
were training. Cross country.
I said i'd come with you.
a crisp july morning full of birdsong
we
jogged the backroads of cherry gardens.
you never shut up.
the Joy of Life
is yours
in abundance.
magpies
stop singing in reverent awe
at your constant carolling
as we pass
Dad,
Mrs Knott said.. can you go any faster ?...what sort of birds are they?
all sentences remain unfinished
you tangential mind is fleeter than your feet!
lorikeets
broadcasting cream stamens stop chuckling
as you pass beneath them
Only
after two or three K's does your panting
interrupt the stream of consciousness
Finally
we sit atop a hill and
look down on the glorious morning
You've finally spent all your thoughts.
We listen to the background.
A calf and its mother.
A willy-wagtail.
Distant sheep.
You narrow your eyes
tilt your head
in concentration.
I look at you
and pray
that you never lose your confidence in yourself
or sense
of Wonder.
Copyright © Rob Walker, 1996