When I went back to Melbourne,
I was surprised by trees
greening the railway embankments
and city streets.
The wide, sunlit Yarra shone
under new bridges and old.
Then I strolled around Pascoe Vale,
delighted by roses —
thick, old bushes, well established.
How had I forgotten them
in the intervening years?
My nearest family and oldest friends
live in Melbourne. Good to spend time
with them. Good to see them happy.
"I'm afraid you'll move back,"
said a friend from here.
I texted her from the midst of Melbourne traffic,
as I snuggled into a shawl against the cold
(at the beginning of summer).
"Not a chance," I said.
Still, it's nice to visit.
April Poem a Day Challenge, day 12: a city poem.
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