K.M. Preston: ‘Swansea in January’

Swansea in January

The Tassie stone cottage is haven from Sydney heat,
the garden roses weave a morning collage
and “Which beach?” replaces smartphones
as the day’s most pressing demand.

Freycinet by boat on a gentle day shows
the blue clarity of Wineglass water,
the curved lines of whalebone beneath
a dark contrast to wheat-hued sand.

We return motley pink from reflected sun
bouncing off water and champagne.
Stopping off for supplies in town there is
eye contact, and questions about our day.

Though summer, at night we light a fire,
making damper that oozes butter
and toasting marshmallows
till they are sticky glue on our tongues.

Back home, when mobile reception is patchy,
“Kate’s Berry Farm” becomes a chorus.
It’s a fun way of saying I can’t hear you
and in place of frustration, leaves a smile.

K.M. Preston