Sonia Nicholson – Sitting on my parents’ front porch in my 40s
the mercury hovers at 35C (waves over
scorching street) walkers wait in siesta
quail (a covey) veer across ;steering
traffic as Eurasian Collared-Doves coo
between grape vines /oven breezes
break over me {sweetly} row upon row
a musk i denied —the sparrows, al-
ways knowing— drunk on acidic colour
(pitted fruit, leaves riddled with holes,
hail storm damage nearly forgotten)
not the worst young-old place (under-
appreciated birds) to grow up fly
ManicWorld Magazine 