EVENING IN BERKELEY
by Anne Bell
Late sunlight tight-ropes across roof-tops
and maple trees finger a no-colour sky,
searching for not-yet stars;
on the side-walks
ginkos let fall their memories of summer
for the wind to riffle through,
and the scent of pancakes and coffee and chilli con carne
comes hurrying down the street.
Somewhere, out of sight,
a saxophone stands on tip-toe for a note –
and the thought of tomorrow sings in my heart.
A version of this poem was first published in “The Voice” (NSW Speech and Drama Assoc.)