97poems/lifehas

LIFE HAS . . .

This is how life
has always been,
with the wind singing
through the eucalyptus,
or one of its kin,
the early afternoon light
glistening through
the swaying grass,
skipping across
the rippling lake

The call of birds
you know but cannot name,
the sound of the red-wings
as they ascend from the reeds.
Life has always been
like this.