This morning’s Barangaroo
Was very bleak –
Grey clouds and fog,
Spilled from a sunless sky
The waters looked like liquid
slate
Off white wharves
And the trees –
Dark, brooding, leafless
Reminded, that winter
Was still lurking around
I stopped on my lonely track
And wondered
That the harbour today
Was all monotones
Of melancholy;
Would anyone believe
How grey was my city
Waiting desperately for spring?
AS if reading my mind
Exactly then
A dinky boat
Crept slowly into my canvas frame
–
One dot of bright yellow
Bravely fighting
My charcoal drawing;
I wondered then
How just one tiny pixel
Was all it took
To convince
This was but a colourful
painting
Brave dinky boat –
How I loved it,
As it streaked past my canvas
frame
Whispering, to look out for that
one pixel –
That one smile,
Those distant eyes lighting up,
That one unread message
Silently dropping
One drop of paint
On a cold bleary harbour’s morn…
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