Poem: Down the Street

Down the Street

Imagine:

Potholes rutting down a gravel drive,

flower beds erupting into seed,

weeds jungling the borders, feral roses.

In the background

a wooden door rots unhinged against a peach tree,

showing grey undercoat, primer-pink petticoat,

its charms weather-washed away.

Roof timbers sprawl where they fell.

Tiles, toilets, plastered bricks, crazed and unsteady,

lean together in precarious solidarity.

Smashed windows lie face up, unseeing,

while white lead paint,

snowing from weatherboards in frightening flakes

winters the scene.

Before the sports bars with pokies and the rooms to rent,

there was a family home.

Now two figures

hand in solitaired hand

skirt the spoil heaps, jump the pothole lakes,

scamper towards the gutted ruin,

a chrysalis of their hopes.

They’ll follow their mind’s eye

through a future built on old foundations

strong to weather storms,

bright in the rising sun,

mellow as evening falls,

open to starlight.

Imagine:

They’ll put down roots as they cultivate their garden,

checking for wolves at their solid, varnished, door.

Adelaide’s Michele Slatter, a retired Law academic, lived and worked in the UK and New Zealand before settling in South Australia. She is a member of several active writers’ groups and regularly reads at Friendly Street Poets.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.