Through cool September mists
there is a place where
October is Spring
and pale mauve tubes
of jacaranda blooms
festoon the ground.
National colours nestle
in yellow wattle.
Lorikeets hide in the
red-bristled bottlebrush.
Sulphur crests screech
through silver gums
and gulls tucker squawk
in the harbour—
soaring over the cappuccino crowd,
absorbing warm November nights.

Drip with sweat on a
searing December day
and see your reflection
in a shop window
dressed with snow.
On January 26th,
a fireworks shower
rains sparkle bursts
of aerial sprays,
for this Australia Day.
Advance Australia Fair—
through Darling Harbour—
followed by a larrikin chorus—
of Waltzing Matilda—
such is life!

On a fiery February
forty-degree day
the transvestites
strut and fret
at the Sleaze Ball.
The loud glitter brigade
at the Mardi Gras Parade.

Bathing beauties burn at Balmoral Beach.
Bleached Manly surfies walk in rippled moves
along the esplanade— then into the waves.

Downtown—brisk black
business suits stream by
and brides pose in front of
the Opera House carapace.
In Paddington look through
the balconies of lace.
On March seventeen
drink beer in a Rocks’ pub
tiled in Irish green.
Sport talk—and a technicolour yawn.

Contemplative cadets
and chattering choirboys
attend in Hyde Park
on a rainy April Anzac Day.
A veteran takes a quiet moment
staring down at the war-splayed statue
in the monument.

A shout of Warra Warra!¹
at Woolloomooloo—too late.
The last corroboree has long gone.
The flag hangs limp on Pyrmont Bridge
waiting for a southerly change.
When it comes it can bring all seasons
in every way
in one day
in May.

June July August
bring the winter coats
and woollen scarves
to Pitt Street Mall—
and wet windy squalls.
Some fine days shine
through Winter blahs—
fair dinkum Oz!

¹ Go away!