And Never Rain.

I guided you through fifty broken valleys,

pretending that I really knew the way.

We saw some rabbits eating bears and flowers;

and cats drinking sunshine and never rain.

You never looked surprised

                                        or frightened at those sights.

You never seemed to care for good and evil.

I found the shades too cool – the sun too hot.

Our breaths were weak and feeble -

the air a hazy stench of honey and rot.

Yet still we kept just walking,

in silence – or barely talking,

as though nothing could touch our lonely embrace.

As though nothing could quench our endless thirst.

We went through fifty valleys,

You and I, through fifty valleys,

our path barely defined

by loud church bells on a Sunday in Darlinghurst.

Piero Bassu, August 2013.