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.)