Waiting at Beauty Point

Yesterday I parked looking out from Beauty Point, in the clear late-ish afternoon, the Thursday drum lesson wait. Coming home with this sketch I recollected a very different winter's evening waiting in the same spot, which I wrote about in a poem 'Windscreen' - published in Poetry Mosman, an anthology of Mosman poems published by River Road Press in 2008.


The view is winter, late evening -
busy with the traffic’s northern peristalsis,
Seaforth and the Spit Bridge’s
lights are sliding

slow blurred, down my rain swerved
windscreen, spilling lines of light
over its curb, the bent edge of drops
gregarious in thick bundles of hard water

& water knocking on my car’s tin roof
so all the distortions of glass, of angle,
sluice to remake a flattened world
of melting, molten light and rain.

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