East west winds.
North south rows.
Autumn’s chill fingers
rubbing vineyards
the wrong way.
The brown corduroy
suit my mother had made for me
My brother’s in aqua
the colour of my faded Air NZ satchel
and Dad’s MkII Cortina
two tone with a carless day sticker.
M*A*S*H, Happy Days or Taxi
at the dinner table with a mug of tea.
The TV, white vinyl, wheeled in
from the lounge on brown carpet
alive with orange and gold.
Mum’s paprika chicken and 3 veg.
Kitchen cabinets mustard
brown dimpled glass doors.
Macrame pot plant holder.
Gold, red and copper string art
like from the Spirograph I coveted
above the white vinyl couch
I’d stick to in summer.
Thinking big things in a small way
and a tardis heart.
Love notes I hid for years
until I grew the courage.
Sun low shines
down north south rows.
Golden russet shining copper
string art and the highlights
in the carpet threadbare corduroy suit
shiny elbows and knees.
Very nice, and like how you have wound everyday things – macrame, paprika chicken, corduroy – into this, but what is life but those things and more.