Another weekend down south.
Poems are buzzing and bashing around in my mind
like a bumble bee trapped indoors ...
Main Street, Gore
Mum folding the washing
Piano accordion Band at the Gore Farmers Market.
Piano accordion player number one ...
and piano accordion player number two.
I wish I had the time to write poetry right now because after a weekend spent with my mother and auntie, I am not short of material.
(Meanwhile, until the time becomes available to write, I'll just have to make do with hastily scribbled notes.)