Thermos

The screech of a cockatoo above my house and out the back. I’m wearing this black jumper with the sleeves rolled up. Actually this is not true – most of the day my sleeves were up, but now they have slipped down. Luckily I have an adjustable spanner to fix the leaking gas bottle. Ended up stupidly buying a whole new connection when all I needed was a small rubber O-ring. Standing in Bunnings with some tough woman and her painted daughters just ahead of me. They placed three wet citrus trees and a thermos on the counter. The daughter asked, “why the thermos?” The mother didn’t answer. She was typing in her pin. The sky above my untrimmed hedge is pink and blue. The pink is rising higher, while the blue slips behind it like a dutiful friend. But already the blue, while never stepping forward, prevails. Dusk is a work of inveigling and false obeisance. I was listening to a long piece of music but it finished some time ago.