I found a special place
a seam of quartz halfway
I’d love to know how
and when
might Google it one day.
It’s not a long hike
ten minutes, I’d say
but I always stop on the way
to catch my breath
and look back upon
how far I’ve climbed
with the world framed
at this height.
…can I hear the below cafe
above the tree line?
…and is anyone coming up
from behind?
Ahh, the approaching top –
it’s a pretty good spot with
a good view
a place people are drawn to
I pass them with a “G’day, how are you!?”
These streets;
the ink smudge where the motion repeats
dry, cracked heels, dirty feet
Point A to Point B
and somewhere in between:
thoughtless impulse.
I spit a cigarette
lit the wrong way in the dark
a fucking waste
the taste never forgotten.
There’s six in this group
I flat-out refuse
to get in the boot.
I’m a good girl
doing the bad, coming of age, acting out
vulgar and know-it-all
unladylike and loud.
I guess (unknowingly)
all part of the “figuring it out”
through trial and mistake
and the choices I make
as part of the shaping
taking corners without breaking –
I squeal in delight.
Fifteen
and the memory
She locked herself
in the bathroom
refusing
to open the door
I was summoned, the authority
exasperated with hands in the air
“talk to her, will you”
“Go away! I want to kill myself.”
I could do nothing
but bare witness
to the moment that later,
we pretended hadn’t occurred
the next day
normalcy returned
and I rubbed my temple
where it had burned.