There was no scarf across face
No end of pointed gun or knife
That demanded or else
Just a new kind of tyranny
a barrier of arrogance
for the freedom he thinks he represents.
In the smile on his young face
moored, this unfathomably legacy
this “great” era,
where hate masquerades as freedom
an assumed privilege,
a dawn bird
I’ve just returned from the South-West. I based myself in Busselton and travelled around within a 100 km radius. At dusk I walked the 1.7 km jetty and tried not to get blown off in the stiff breeze. Like others, I stood as sunset and watched it, like I had never seen one before when a little girl caught my eye. This post is for her and to those who bring joy to others unexpectedly. The sequence of photographs is how I saw it.
Along a strip where sand meets the sea
a little girl plays tag
dipping her toes in
she races away
as the sea chases her unexpectedly
She returns once more
to do it again
a game of chicken, with the sea
this time the sea claims victory
arms billowing, she spins in the breeze
throwing her head back with laughter
I watch this child of joy
listening, seeing, touching,
breathing in, senses alive
alone in a crowd, by the sea
yet connected to all
she dances in the space where,
with you, I yearn to be.
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