Katherine Spadaro: Tropical Storm

Tropical Storm

The palm trees urge on the wind, frantic cheerleaders flourishing pompoms,

tall pine trees keen quietly, racked by private sorrow,

pink-dotted shrub rakes its face with hysterical branches,

while the tall macadamia tree tosses and shakes rainglossy leaves

as if modelling shampoo.

On the street, slow cars are trailing grubby lace – a squad of sullen bridesmaids,

and a siren making its periodical reach for heaven.

Katherine Spadaro

The Calmness Of Despair

When you get out of the car and you feel the bully’s stare

That’s when you feel the calmness of despair.

When other kids have all been picked and you’re left standing there

That’s when you feel the calmness of despair.

When you want to dance with Abby and they make you dance with Claire

When the teacher always picks on you and nothing’s ever fair

When mum and dad are fighting and the pain’s too hard to bear

That’s when you feel

the calmness

of despair.

Katherine Spadaro

BEACH OF MEMORY

The smack of smell, the wind pushing inside your lungs,

its laughing, pungent cries of welcome,

that fertile taste of cleanskin sweat,

the rush of spinning moon-drawn joy:

So same, so separate…

Can I just close my eyes, stand here wind-moulded,

dissolve into this water at my feet, and be there,

then turn to see my mother young, sitting on the beach,

and look, my father out there strongly swimming –

Could I just do that please?

Katherine Spadaro