Lift

 I watch the leaves turn 

curling, edges tinged with brown

complaining of the heat

but always seeking light.

Growth gives me hope 

a new leaf, the falling of the gumnuts

even the weeds growing, creating work for my fingers

to dig in the ground and lift

                lift, lift, lift

                             the roots.

I don't understand what is next

what plasterboard will hold the marks of my son's growth

what friendships will sustain me in desperate times

but I can trust the seasons changing

this thing not lasting forever....just like this

this trauma, this disruption, this falling away.

Trust.