xmas without snow
Submitted by antipoet on Fri, 12/12/2014 - 21:51
its roast pork and crackling on a 39 degree day
it’s a cold beer at breakfast, baked eggs, ham on the barbie, the scent of mango, pressies swapped in glee
its running under the sprinklers on a rottnest front lawn
its xmas eve, the four of us still wrapping presents at 2AM, drunk, giggling like kids – the pile under the tree a metre deep
its beach cricket after lunch, he’s out!
its baked potatoes in a caravan, drop-ins welcome
its all the prawns, all the prawns
its laughing at nanna
its life without grandads and grandmas