U Plain

Every night when spring gets going
we sit outside in fold-up chairs
Yours ripped from being left out in the weather
mine hanging in by a thread

You watch dragon flies like micro choppers
on some reconnaissance or other
I admire the sass of lily buds
wattle birds in cirque de soleil
with kangaroo paw in a double act

I feed the fish that coil and flick in their rush
to be fed with their silly open-shut poppy gobs
You dead-head the odd drooped flower
pull a weed or two out of the path

We drink a few reds       knit the day together
You plain, me purl
Your rows are always the same
I drop stitches and have to start again

You cast off            It starts to rain

First appeared in Rabbit Poetry Journal, subsequently And Other Poems