Bangalow

Bangalow

Low

Swing me high to

Where their spirits

Rest

High to where

a glass of

passionfruit

fizz

meant holidays

and a beach day

made of

salt and the curl of

swirling spaghetti waves

colored beautiful blue

and whispery white.

Is that low

Hill

They called

Bangalla

really

Dreamtime

High time

River wide -

With all

That grew them

Churning about

From yesterday

And into

Tomorrow.

Such a small town

Such small little ladies

Such little little feet

but

Then why are you the

Tall palm tree

Of remembering

I climb to

Like the way

A warm breeze

Neath the tropical bliss

Is as subtle as forgetting

But feels like forever.

Or the fixed shapes

Through the window

That twitch and dance

In the peace of a still day

As if to say

Remember life

Won’t stay fixed.

Bangalow Low

Bangalla High

You still reach us.