Shelley Hall Poems

It was just like yesterday
when we sat on your porch
feeding the kookaburras
you folded mince
...

At summer's end
you are a miracle
sleeping on my shoulder
we are dying and dancing
...

We try again
the late nights
curled up on the couch
arms entangled
...

I found out from my DNA
that I'm part Roma
gypsy, traveller, dreamer
...

After a year of making changes
I've thrown out old clothes
crockery
and judgements
...