Brown against the turquoise blue of the ocean pool,
Her smile is pearly white as surfboard wax and seashell chokers.
Seaweed draped from her hallowed head,
I lift my camera to capture the rapture sprawled across her face
At marinated olives and Sydney rock oysters.
A matured palate
A refined taste
She is a rock pool of abundance.
Leader of our rat pack
She takes the job seriously
And upholds responsibility.
Unwavering, she tiptoes a balance of calm and chaotic
Tip toes from dangerous heights
An acrobat in the making
Her logic makes sense only to the illogical
‘I sleep next to the door to escape from burglars,
you sleep next to the window so they kill you first’
Her loyalty makes mouths of mockery
The days stretch on towards tomorrow but never quite make it
And we eat watermelon on the deck of our grandmother’s balcony.
Spit pips at each other and howl with laughter
Howl through canopy rooftops and tree tunnels
A cathedral for our worship.
Peering through the cracks of the nail littered planks
I steal shade under your winged arm and take flight,
Two feet taller and two years younger,
Forever on the tail of your existence.