Cool mountain air fills my lungs at dawn.
Late spring frost glistens on the lawn.
Blue crimson sky, marks the end of the night.
When the sun’s face shows, platypus gets out of sight.
Pity the souls that live in the city, buildings so high they can’t see the sky.
Filling their tummies with poison and their heads full of lies.
Fighting, scratching, biting for their piece of the pie.
Gathering possessions they will never be able to keep.
Slowly their families slip into water too deep.
Back in the mountains a sweet spring breeze blows.
Between giant granite boulders the Macdonald river flows.
No million dollars to be made here, but peace and happiness is mine to keep.
Deon Heemskerk 7-9-11