Sunday Refelections
Waking up at 7 in the morning On a cold autumn Sunday Is as crisp as the satisfying crunch Of the dried, yellow leaves The full weight of my week Pressing them onto the coldness Of Burwood's pavement Still asleep. Take the train to the City I reckon, and ride the ferry And be tossed at the Harbour To Watsons Bay Walk to The Lighthouse Follow the short trail Spend some time watching the raging waves And thank the ocean For bearing the brunt Of a tumultuous life Now finding the calm In the suspended flight of birds. Journey back to Circular Quay This time staying indoors, upper deck Where it is warm And quiet Only the boat's engine roars -- Noise is necessary For staying afloat.