Sydney, First Impressions
The irony of the chilling wind Summons the neophyte on a summer day Sydney, you felt lonely. Your train stations channel centuries of history The rust on the railways evaporate into the air Forming rustic marriages with the countless graffitis That travel with me into your suburbs Lined by untrimmed trees whose irregular canopies Highlight the view's randomness in the expanse of your many spaces Filled by brick, small houses; grasses filling the cracks in the pavements You smell of pure earth, organic and unfiltered. Your people, they are great They seem to come from a joyous eternal spring Their pleasantries sparking with enthusiasm Not a fan of short hi’s and hello's But love the stretch of asking ‘Mate, how are you today?’, all the time. They love to chill, did I mention the beach in Bondi? Their sculpted bodies flat carpeting the fine, white sand I look at them from afar while I squeeze lemon Onto my fish and chips...