Everyone has problems

By Vita Forest

They listen holding breath

to a tale about a convict boy

No older than they

Crawling up a smouldering chimney

Into blackness

                                           Into nightmare

                                                          Scraping off the soot

Feet calloused and cut

Stomach growling

Eyes squinting into the

grimy yellow smog of daylight

waiting for the day

when he’ll be too big to shimmy

and crawl and worm his way through

the secret innards of other people’s houses

Til he’s stuck

til he’s sold again

til he’s out of luck

We close that book

Let out our breath

and open another

And they complain

about the tracing

and the posture

and the pain

in their fingers from holding

the pencil

Handwriting is hard

Almost as hard as being a chimney sweep in eighteenth century London? I suggest

They stare and nod

Yes.

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Tai-chi and Tennis rackets

By Vita Forest

Leap from the bed

Roll up the blinds

Release the felines into the day

 

Opening shutters and children’s doors

Shadowed by jogging cats

Tails held high

 

While crossing the drawbridge with my daughter

We stop at the scratch! scratch!

from the place where the moat would be

If we had one

 

Instead, a brush turkey in the garden bed

Sorting twigs and leaves and straw

Raking claws, giving me pause

On the way to the garage

 

Rousing the engine

rolling up the drive

Hovering, humming, hanging for my son

He tears down the path

 

Barefoot in Winter

Carrying bag and shoes and

That navy jacket he just will not wear in the flat

To save it from the white fur of the cat

The bane of his existence.

 

We roll through streets

Talking music and homework and dance and

plans for the weekend

 

Toes are pressed into shoes

Arms are threaded into jackets

Pockets are checked for keys and phones and

I plan the evening meal

In my head.

 

They leap out at the station

And I wish for a red light

So I might stop a moment

At the railway

 

Long enough to see

The elderly couple

in tracksuits and fleecy vests

Dancing

 

As they practise

Tai chi with tennis rackets

Balls tossed over shoulders

caught again in unison

 

Swinging back and forth

Again and again

On the well-oiled tracks

Of their knees.

This week

By Vita Forest

This week I have been

WRITING

READING

  • The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
  • the synopsis of my novel aloud to my children and watching them squirm (Eww! Nude life drawing! Eww!)

SKETCHING at Union Square at Pyrmont after getting rather lost.  Lovely to catch up with some sketching pals!

EATING blood orange gelato from Gelato Gondola (so good! Possibly my new favourite) after

WALKING with Max

SNORKELLING at Shelly Beach with Max and Briony – stingrays and many many fish.

WATCHING the whole of the final season of The Bridge on SBS On Demand…  Let’s just say OMG!

Shelly Beach

By Vita Forest

Lying on the surface

While striped fish streak through my fingers

And white rays shimmy down into the sand

And kelp wrings forwards and back on the tide

Hiding and revealing the groper

And its widening and shrinking jaw

Leaning on the wooden rail

While heavy clouds squat on the horizon

And the sky loses itself in the sea

And the procession of paddlers follow the leader

Tracing a curve around the shoreline

And swerve to avoid the snorkelers engrossed in the sights below.

This week

By Vita Forest

A wet day in scenic downtown Sydney


This week I have been

WRITING

READING

  • Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell (til very late one night I might add)
  • The Wonderling by Mira Bartok

 

ATTENDING the announcement of some local literary awards.  I didn’t win but was long-listed for the Memoir prize and short-listed for the Poetry prize.  Max’s reaction – “Mum!  Next time write a better poem!”

HAVING a Thai dinner with Sui-Sui

MAKING Halloween costumes at school out of paper and cardboard for a mini-STEAM project

FAREWELLING Minna as she goes off on maternity leave (my great teaching buddy and dance teaching partner).  How will we manage without you?!

SKETCHING at the MCA in Sydney (see Swimming with the yawkyawk) and

The aforementioned yawkyawk


GETTING rather wet in the rain

CELEBRATING my Dad’s birthday

Jacarandas at Circular Quay near the MCA


 

Everyday more geckos

By Vita Forest

For the last two weeks

A strange phenomena

A gang of geckos in my classroom.

They march up the walls

Keeping watch over the rubbish bin.

They peer at the whiteboard

Their sticky toes hugging the frame.

Some particularly curious ones watch me work at my computer

They must tell their friends –

Everyday more geckos.

And on the back wall by a Boy table and under the Indigenous language map

An army has appeared

Everyday more geckos

One clings to the clock and listens to its tock

They crawl up the windows

Every size, every colour, every pattern

When will it end?

Everyday more geckos.