on invasion day

a poem - 26th jan 10
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on invasion day

dialogue
in the black driveway
this time i'm talking
to myself, parked
leaning against
our x-cop car

the polar whiteness
through my fabric
a next generation
that rustic urban skin

icy stag in hand
easterly breezes of me
i'm waiting for manners
to appear like ghosts

yet we/i are watching
old mates' lawns
once lush die
under union jack
stars, suns set

uh huh
and me
wafting
into
acacia