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TIny Frog by Carole Bouchard

Table of Contents

Poetry


That City Calls My Name

Martha Landman

Though I’ll miss the winter balm
of this Frangipani place that cushioned
me for fifteen years
I will leave my tropical comfort cage
pack my coats and gumboots
bear Adelaide’s winter grey and wet
its radiating cold around a fireplace
for hours in museums and galleries

I’ll rise to the gift of parrots
city of Jacarandas, the flair of orange
skies sculpting the length of summer nights
a brisk walk on city paths pulsating
with pubs and coffee clubs
at the little brothels down William street
an old man will pee against a bin and smile
and there I’ll be, a woman without history

Pigeons will flock around buskers in the mall
cool shadows curl long around a blind guitarist
giving Don Giovanni a go
At the warm buttery smell of popcorn
I’ll pine for the sun that keeps Africa warm
With umbrella always on the arm
I’ll meet the seasons of the day, the blueness
of the hills around the city
and the fear that the fog won’t clear