This man
who I wanted to hold
and to rock in my arms
(tell him it’s all alright)
stands in the street
smiling down at me
tells me it’s all alright
and all the people part around us
I can’t hear them
He’s all there is as
the sun comes behind him
His lips
touch my cheeck, and almost
my mouth
mine on his, soft on soft as
the sun warms my face and
I’m so proud of him
standing there, smiling
as if
he loved me
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Australian-born, with English mother, has lived in several Australian cities and in London. Travelled widely. Way way back when, published widely as a poet and short story writer. For the first 20 years of my working life I worked as an entertainment journalist, publicist, PR consultant and in advertising and media agencies. In the second 20 years, I worked in marketing roles at non-profit organisations then retrained as a teacher, primarily teaching English to non-English speaking, newly-arrived refugees. Also did miserable McJobs, and a long, happy stint at an art gallery.
