[Garden]
After
Li Bai (8th century)
Warmth
overly warm blows into the garden
Spring
sweetness flows through porches
grevilleas
spiral (something else again)
wattles
pass gold froth to the breezes
a
thousand cherry leaves flutter green on green
she-oaks
reminders of storm cloud.
By
the resplendent house
great
branches move with one another
their
long shadows weaving on white walls
spotted
pardalotes tinker at windows
where
they come from where they go
no
one knows
and
magpies on rooftops warble
to
their mates down below
strutting
the verges for something
clouds
provided days ago.
Voices
of spring are heard everywhere
at
a thousand gates and a thousand doorways
here
one Sunday one October
crunch
of secateurs
swish
of uprooted weeds.
The
sun, the ball of fun
its
fiery flambeaux that are
life
giver death dealer (something else again)
breaks
all previous records
for
such a tiny star
here
and gone here and gone.
Coming
forth from the house
the
imperial cortege of latest news
is
turned to something calm and Venetian.
Breathing
noticed is time for tea.
The
house, somewhere to escape the glare.
The
sun, it is what it is.
Later,
when day exhausts, random cockatoos
arrive
call high in the sky.
The
fruit trees, a thousand buds budding,
must
be secured by netting and rio
against
possums hopping fences, hoping
For a midnight feast.
