With eyes fixed straight ahead
like a soulless zombie of the living dead,
the pedestrian strode through the sun saturated park,
but it might as well have been after dark.
Birds chorused and flew erratically overhead;
flowers nodded at the breeze from their fertile beds
but the pedestrian would not look up and see
the beauty present in the ordinary.
While wind whispered through the trees
like old men’s contented sighs,
and willing wilting blossom reminded all
life is shorter than it is broad,
the pedestrian ignored the blue sky bedecked
with wisps of ivory cloud filigree
and the possum watching from a tree,
and failed to notice the pair of rosellas
foraging in the grass near her feet;
bright blue and red and waddling like sailors
just stepped ashore from a ship on the unsteadying sea.
What a shame the pedestrian doesn’t see.
Jeremy Gadd has published articles, 200 poems in newspapers, periodicals, literary magazines and anthologies in Australia, the USA, UK, New Zealand, Germany and India and 50 short stories, including Country, a selection of eight previously published short stories by Ginninderra Press, Canberra & Adelaide, 2008.