Posted by: Jan | 16 April, 2013

Next time I’ll bring a dongle

I am sorry that this blog has been so sporadic. In an astonishingly interesting month – more than a month – in Australia, internet access has been patchy. There’s been less wi-fi around than I thought. I’m grateful that my hosts let me use their computers to check my mail – but lurking in their study blogging didn’t seem polite – when there was so much interesting conversation to have over kitchen tables from Perth to Newcastle, Adelaide to Alice Springs. And public computer access is time-consuming, and costly when – as often – it goes down before the message is actually send, the blog posted.

Today is my second Monday. It started in a friendly household in Sydney, and after I got on the long-haul flight eastwards at midday, time became rather shapeless, and there was a night in there somewhere (but disappointingly no celebrations when we crossed the International Date Line…. and now, somewhere over the rainbow, I’ve had Monday afternoon and evening all over again in San Francisco. Next time I make a journey like this – if I do – I’ll try to be more independently connective. A dongle sounds like one of those rare Australian bush creatures – and there might be a poem in that

I have been looking at things I wrote in Australia, which might still be worth sharing. So in the next few days I intend to do some retro-blogging. But for now, among all the serious and noteworthy things that have been happening, and on my mind ….some lines about a small persistent presence, in the last few days.

A fly called Alice
I sat under the trees: you dropped by to say ‘Hello’.
I went for a walk: you wanted to come too.
I put on a sun-hat: you came to admire it.
Sun-cream, fly-repellent: you seemed to desire it.
I poured out a drink: you said ‘Time for a swim’;
Opened the screen-door: you rushed to come in.
Spoke to you sternly: ‘Oh push off, steer clear!’
But you looked me in the eye, had a word in my ear.
Made me so welcome to your hot, dry home;
Made me so welcome: wouldn’t leave me alone…
So I left for the airport: for a no-fly zone.
Walked on to the tarmac, still waving: ‘Shoo! Shoo!’
When I got to the plane, you said ‘I can fly too.’
O fly called Alice, I know it’s hard,
But I’ve squashed you flat, with my boarding card.

Advertisements

Categories

%d bloggers like this: