NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCH | POEM
Eric McClellan, 1 July 2013
Down by the creek
a blackwood tree is crowned with yellow.
The first wattle!
Is it early or late?
Probably early I think.
Is the climate shifting seasons?
Over recent years new birds have gradually moved in,
coming to stay from the warmer arid north.
They innocently bring new delights,
I am getting used to them,
my own biological adaptation.
Will spring ever be late again?
I might be imagining it all.
I might not.
Time will tell
- do we have time?
After my demise who else in this neighbourhood
will notice these subtleties?
Everybody is too busy to touch the earth,
yet the earth touches everybody.