I sit on the patio
and smoke another bowl
whilst drying my long damp hair
I notice the first lines of
white amid the waves of honey and caramel.

Every few minutes
bird chitter and chatter is
burst by buzz and roar of
jets and turboprops approaching
the end of the journey.

November breeze wafts through
my bare shoulders; the late afternoon sun ripples eucalyptus leaves. Birds
tick
and
hum.

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