is the sweet, acidic fragrance
of lemon trees in blossom
enough to quell impatience
to be in the city again?
or the disc of a slow setting sun
in a water clear yellow sky
flowing upward into veridian
enough of a bribe?
are tracks bordered by straw-coloured grass
leading to round reclining hills
intriguing enough to make a day pass
without desiring the clatter of streets?
or maybe the skittering little crew of birds
in the crimson callistemon
will drive away the nostalgic words
lounging around my thoughts …
but at night the long thick skein of stars
winding around this scrap of earth
could put an end to niggling fear
there is no lasting solace to be uncovered here
