I trimmed the hedge this morning
clipping its frisky fronds to soldierly precision.
The diosma had burgeoned in the autumn rains
that ended years of drought and killed its weaker stems,
but now it aspired to emulate the trees and hide the house.
This was not to be, and soon the ground was carpeted
with sweet-smelling twigs and leaves that had to go.
While I was clipping, a pretty woman passed on a bike
and gave me such a smile my heart was warmed.
In the sky white spreading lines of condensation trails
marked the paths of aircraft filled, as I imagine,
with glum commuters heading for appointments
in Sydney and Melbourne and Brisbane
(for some were heading north and could be going only there)
and I delighted, not in passengers' boredom and discomfort,
but in pure brush strokes drawn by technology
across the pure blue sky that crowned this lovely Autumn day.
Copyright Malcolm Miller 26 March 2010
Here is a note added after posting this poem here. I love looking at the sky, and of course I have been both astronomer and pilot. Cloud physics makes beautiful shapes, ever changing, and I regularly call up a woman I love who also like to look. We point out intersting formations or contrails we have noticed, I take photos of the more interesting ones. I am no gardener, but I like my diasma hedge and try to keep it tidy. The smiles of passers-by, which I sometimes receive when I am standing at the fence with my cat, Mac, are also satisfying. I always like to see a pretty woman!