A Cup Of Tea Or A Beer?
Her house,
Numbered on a whim,
Stood firm against our suburb’s change –
Claiming asbestos as its wonder,
Indestructible as it is.
Her husband,
In conversation – lit up her eyes.
Missed desperately,
She spoke fondly
Of his construction at the back.
Her neighbour – the one that stayed,
Known as possum man to the kids,
Bugger Lugs to her.
Observing his antics, eyebrows raised,
She tolerated his ways – taken with fistfuls of salt.
Our house – the one on the corner,
Forever labeled the Kelly’s,
Held stories of her son and their daughter,
Asleep on the floor,
More comfortable it seemed, than his bed at his mum’s.
Our family,
She greeted with a Xmas type card,
Embraced without judgement
She snuck it past doors,
Wondering on tip toe – who we might be.
Our presence,
In time – seeded many a smile.
Rewarded – now and then, with a cup of tea or a beer.
A little something, she’d say, to toast
The couple – she was certain, would stay.
Her dottering gone – I still radar the yards.
Peering over our fence,
As much as our cat – who continues to hope,
That her saucer returns,
With his contraband milk and a pat on the back.
Dedication (For Betty Cutlack)
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2008