Remembering Places of Green

There's a dip in the road
on the way to my Grandmother's house
where the Willow tree bends its
long long leaves, on long long branches
down over the charcoal bitumen
Its trunk stuck deep into the creek bank mud
anchored well against the rush of
thunderstorm swellings
that spill over the road, making a river
the muddy wash and pebbles and stones
green fern, green algae, green leaves
in the dip in the road
on the way to my Grandmother's house.

We had two pine trees
out the front of my house
that had dark, black bark, rough and nubbly
it tore at my skin as I climbed
and my dress was far to good for climbing
but my bare feet gripped the trunk
and I could get up to the branches
by jumping up on the rocks
covered in lichen stains
where we'd catch green tree frogs
tiny ones, that skipped over my skin
onto my dress, to rest in my palm
then we'd scratch the bark off to let the
sap flow, and collect the amber gooey
to dry and use as treasure
from the pine trees
that were at the front of my house.

The rainforest was my favourite trip
because of the walk down the tracks
where I had to wear 'good shoes'
so they could get muddy
and then I could clean off
the rich red sludge

from the walk down the tracks
through the rainforest.

My tree was a 'leopard tree'
at the corner of the concrete slab
my Dad had layed years ago
next to the natural spring
at the back of our yard, near the fence
where I played with my brother's
cars and trucks and animals
making garages and houses in the
hollows of the tree roots
digging out the rich black and red soil
making roads with my spade
under my leopard tree
at the corner of the concrete slab.

The field that had clover patches with buzzing bees
and sweet smelling grass across the road
often threshed by the old man and
his loud, smelly tractor
where we'd make 'houses' of hay
not noticing that we'd scared
the black and brown snakes away
with our raucous playing,
racing the tricycle around,
"yahooing and carrying on" as
my parents used to say when
we came home from playing
on the field with clover patches and buzzing bees
and sweet smelling grass across the road.