flowers
even sprayed with cool water
cannot survive the filthy heat
of the outback
i toss the roses and gardenias
into the compost bin
put on the air con
i wonder how
Walter Leslie fFrench
who bought this place in 1910
survived
and the countless other settlers
before him who called this home
i dream of iced roses
ever year at this time
while you all complain
shivering in your boots
yesterday
i floated on my back
in the pool partly covered
by a rusty tin roof and an electric blue sky
framed by giant cactus and olives
with only the orange and black beetles
buzzing about in the still hush of midday
i fell in love again
that habanera whistling
in my ears
but with me love is short lived
today i am dreaming of boots
trudging through squeaky fresh snow
log fires roasted chestnuts and crepes
ugg boots and mittens
and tomorrow
well
who knows
