Goodbye,

Sweeping southerly wings,

Antarctic winds,

A parting lick of winter.

 

A few purple flowers bloom,

Shrivelled,

Like all early risers.

Rebirth,

Blu Stu holds out his hand-held heart.

While time-burnt lullabies

brisk the lips of an angel trip

and tip toes on the notes.

Where she’ll stay.

 

Jacarandas are bleeding,

Stained Purple,

by dreamtime didgeridoos.

Druids, of rusty sand and flailing gums.

 

Winter was harsh

But it was there we ripped ourselves

From eyes outspoken and whole.

Ces Yeux,

 

Winters Passed,

I’ll think of it.