I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

11 January 2011

Flooding Rain

Judy comes to do the cleaning,
very late because of the floods.
Only three of the Home Care staff
live here in town; the rest can’t get in.

She’s been doing extra today —
the Personal Care as well,
showering people who live alone
and can’t do that for themselves.

Her daughter up in Toowoomba,
where the flash flood yesterday
took lives and wrecked houses,
lost her business but she is alive.

‘Six inches of mud,’ says Judy.
‘More cleaning work for Mum, later!’ —
with a grin. ‘Don’t get up, dear, I can do it,’
when I rise to fetch her the broom.

We smile at each other kindly, as if
no sorrow lurked behind our eyes,
no horror from all those TV images
repeated, like 9-11, over and over.

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