Relentless sun beats down

on a side street off

Broadway,

highlighting the silent

clinging duo as they

sit on a bench.

Both dedicated followers

of Gothic fashion,

resplendent in black,

together in body only,

holding on in hopeless

anticipation.

He is waiting for an answer . . .

she is waiting for something

else . . .something sad . . .

and inevitable.

Her face gives it all…

Shining brightly through a window

comes the morning . . . comes the day,

night's dead hours have surrendered,

done and dusted . . . passed away.

Another chance to shed some light

on life . . . and love . . .

to have sunlight in your eyes,

and know that life's worth living,

for love to be still lingering

just an outstretched hand away.

Morning opens yet another door,

push through . . . leap before you…

Once upon a time . . . this land was your land,

this land was my land, and well before that

the Aborigines had it ( that was well before we

took it off them )

Now. . .this land is the developers land

paddocks are shrinking, trees falling by the wayside,

bush going the way of all cash.

'Smash everything and rebuild'

the song of the concrete criminals

echoing left, right, and centre, flowing

unhindered far and wide to cover,…