For Tim and Jonathan

it’s these cobble­stones I’ve fallen in love with
you’re just a bonus
it’s the sun­shine and the moments
when the wind kisses me softly
it’s the gaslamps in the cafes
lit late in septem­ber when it should be warm
but instead we’re huddled into each other
it’s listen­ing to the music late into next week
it’s being here smil­ing des­pite my sore feet
it’s exhaus­tion and swinging round streetlights
like a four year old on holidays
it’s coming back here days after sydney jaunts
and being con­tent just to see you again
it’s sit­ting on cruddy car­pets in back rooms
listen­ing to cana­dian divas with blond dreads
croon­ing about mel­bourne trams
and some­how some­how somehow
it’s you and everything and insanity
poetry and ferris wheels and guitars
husky voices on cas­settes telling stor­ies at twilight
and you are my muse, both of you all of you,
with your tarot and your beat poets
with your franti and di franco and your tori
with your pas­sion and your rhythm and your wine
let us dance into the horizons
let us meet in the anywheres
let us jour­ney deep into the everywhere
the last homely houses
the last leaves at the tops of the lone­li­est trees
and I’m listen­ing to the music
and I’m shak­ing my head at the crazi­ness of it all
dying and breath­ing and wish­ing and believing
and the cobblestones
and the sunshine
and the voices twist­ing round the jangling of the strings
these are the women
these are the singers
these are the moments of surety
I am riding into the wind,
lean­ing into the corners of my life
look­ing ahead like I’m sup­posed to,
I am waving to you as I go,
you mages, you sweet­hearts, you saviours.