Languid

Soft, languid heat hung like a thick blanket over a suburban window.

White sky glare is the color ground of urban landscape

and I wait, as others do,

for the sound of rain.

Until then,

sounds of traffic on Bolte Bridge

it's miles away but its transient occupants exert an influence

a constant hum, which flows and surges like some giant machine that never sleeps

and, I remember now my half sleep, awake and wakening again to noises that I can't identify.

What now? Attempt sleep or remain alert in this half-state?

The warm breeze quietens the birds,

where do they go to avoid the heat?

The creme Housing Commission flats - the most significant scenery from my kitchen window

has one yellow rectangle amist windows three across and two red rectangles, five and twelve down,

painted on the outside.

It is, as if a giant Mondrian painting was hanging gently in front of

patches of white cloud and slivers of blue sky.