-Joy Millar
When we finally part I hope you take the bins out with you.
l'lI look at you from behind, your posture bent and retiring
as you stagger up our driveway
and into the north light channels
bursting with bougainvillaea.
You'll be wearing those god awful slacks
that swallow your bum
and that old man's hat which I despise
and once reframed as a tutu.
The bins will be heavy with grief
and I won't want them left behind
staining the time.
You'll turn around,
look at me and grin.
Say "I've put all your happiness in here too you know"
It won't be long before I retrace your steps and go looking.
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