Sedgefield Shower

by Lise Day

In an old concrete water-tank
tapestry of seasons underfoot,
Kooi-goed of spring poking through
verdant stones. Red berries
of lucky-bean trees squished
between my toes, slippery
russet of autumn at my heels.
Turn the tap, wait, as the water
travels the length of the garden
to steam out of the
copper-green rose, and
sluice the sand and salt from
sun-flushed limbs.
Sombre bul-bul and mousebird
announce my trespass.

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