Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

“Nothing.” –
they will let me know.
Morning break – still no news.
A decision is imminent
a secret known to three people
but whispers escape from closed room
I am being watched … and I feel it.

The boss arrives. Late.
An instruction, cheerfully gruff, stay after everybody has gone.

15 minutes. One quarter of one hour ….
time enough to determine if the darkening
on an x-ray is inconsequential – or terminal.
Time enough to analyse clues.
At the top table laughter and chat
unhurried,
grimness is absent.
Slowing of heartbeat and unclenching of fear
confidence topples pessimism. Bad news doesn’t stop for coffee.

Confirmation is an unexpected diversion
and byplay with the two resident larrikins
laughter still trembling on his lips.
“Those two …what a pair of cards.”

“Now.”
A pronouncement
If given a choice
I would always take it straight.
I wasn’t. He was.

“Unfortunately ..
The decision is final. No more appeals.
This is the end –
nothing more can be done.
Not good news – he realized that
but
messengers are specialists.
they only deliver.

Before global warming
Summers didn’t disappoint
never confounded meteorologists
no one pondered,“ what’s happened to summer this year?”

Sunshine,
skies infinitely wide and denim blue
bikinis and bathing
beer and barbecues
climate extended unlimited credit to enjoyment.

Still some were more glorious – this was one.
A summer of unblinking butter light
warm insect buzzed nights
a summer made for camping.
Biking quiet roads
in shy countryside
tent and gas stove in the shadow of trees
or sleeping in the carcass of a farmhouse
skinny dipping in moonlit bays.
Symphony of forest and waves
weekend wonderland – after work – Friday to Sunday evening.

Three weeks past Christmas time restart
a public holiday to honour the province’s birth
I add Friday to Monday
and cycle to the point of New Zealand closest to Australia.

Tuesday morning
to work
the first day of February
past a school
first day of term
first day for a group of five-year-olds
this was me
minus four years of university
minus five years of high school
minus eight years of pre-high school.

I have my reward.I am on my way to it now.
At morning break
the boss said
“I need to talk to you”
he is holding a telex
“probably nothing to worry about, just some cock up at head office
but…..”

Christmas –
home
shredded wrapping
toasts
friends and distant relatives
“what are you doing these days”
turning to proud parents
“hasn’t he done well!”

Festive season in the Southern Hemisphere
sunshine, sand, surf.
Back to the south
and work
Urrggh ….. but good once there – fulfilling
holidays not quite let go
cricket echoes through the workplace
“what’s the score
………. has he got a hundred yet?”

I resolve to swim each day before work
Bike + tide + bike
it lasts two days.
Never mind
the long go nowhere evenings
rise up and expel morning apathy
with sunset cycling.