vince gullaci

I missed the rain
but the metaphorical hit
between the eyes
left me reeling
...

I'm tired,
more tired
of myself
than anything
...

I'll bring a brioche
with coffee dear
what would you like
with the brioche
...

Persimmon trees
are bugiardi
they flower again
out of season
...

The end of the dream
and into the nightmare
sideshow distortions
and Edvard Munch screams
...

I'm not the man
you thought
I could be
I fell way short
...

Dealing with knowledge
of life's shortage
and the omnipresent
threat of dying
...

While the red gums bloom
the honeyeaters
quarantine my garden
from other bird species
...

Such a brilliant
sun blessed
fluke of nature
we find ourselves
...

The morning light
of the new dawn
cracking through the blinds
gives me great hope
...

God
gives
and takes back
we take
...

And
in the end
I sandbag
my life
...

Engulfed
by the sea
of pessimism
swamped
...

I live with the hand
that life brings
the mistakes were mine
doctors killed the tumour
...

The Agapanthus
for generations
lined the carriageways
and driveways of Australian farms
...

The much vaunted edifice
all it did
was gather
dust
...

I'd love to remain
as God
made me
who knows
...

We're alive
and can see
the blue sky
and we're
...

Our beloved land
of green and gold
of rich red hills
and golden shores
...

A cautionary tale
Worms its way
To my sleep
And flowers
...