The western horizon was
always blue –
That mountain range and
the sky that glistened,
Brightened by the
constant sun of summer –
I tuned to the top
forty and listened.
Beatles, Beach Boys,
Stones and one hit wonders –
Sounds never heard
before on the vague fringe
Of a city yet to spurn
courtesy –
Somehow better for its
cultural cringe.
When evening’s heat
climaxed in sunset’s bliss,
We gathered for dinner –
red meat, two veg –
No daft daylight saving
then to demand
That we push fiery
heatwaves to the edge.
There was humility
then, feeding us,
Now there’s our
misplaced pride, misleading us.
