Her Abundance
by Kate Maxwell
We found a yellow paged
‘Famous Five’ edition
behind the boxes of missing
pieces puzzles, some old
DVDs and chewed Lego blocks.
Then, in comic plum-mouthed
tones, she grinned into the dusty
weekend rental’s gift
leaned into the lounge
and her little performance
to recite a few excerpts of Enid’s
loathing for the great unwashed.
Flicked out an earnest arm
to scoff with glass
and eyebrow raised —
Oh, those filthy ragamuffins
who dare to bathe at our
respectable beaches.
Now they’ve simply gone
and spoiled the jolly picnic!
We cackled at her show
her abundant tolerance
of intolerance, and yet
compelled by half-empty glass
I went and wrecked it all again:
cast my shade upon the evening
spluttering on about so many
ordinary injustices, spurious blames
and blushing stupid in the bright
glow of her benevolence.
A generosity, hard to fathom
when her own ragamuffin
wordless, wild, resplendent
in his own too big, too loud
world, so often raises eyebrows
of disdain, a chorus of complaint
that he too, be shunned from
bathing at respectable beaches.
But she, with generous mouth
stretched to a thousand smiles
calmly insists that sunshine
is for sharing
waters deemed too deep
pathways thought too winding
must be crossed in kinder strokes.
And, on our Sunday morning walk
before we packed the cars
returning to our workday
week, I cursed
greying skies, grumbled through
bare trees, fresh biting wind
but she bent low, stretched high
to point out the wonder
of new blossoms
while I saw only weeds and cold.
Kate Maxwell has been published in Australian and International literary magazines. Kate’s interests include film, wine, and sleeping. Her first poetry anthology, Never Good at Maths, is published with Interactive Publications, Brisbane.
