I am wearing five layers on another cold day.
The younger Bleeding Heart had suckered, I cut
it back, it grew a thicker coat and, a week after
the original lost its last red leaf, is still leafy.
I glance out, notice Green Banksia flowers flushed,
candle-bright. smothered in the syrup of horizontal light.
I feel a need to get the camera, as if it is all novelty
but know there’s meaning and beauty behind the colour.
I turn to the forest, its interior smoldering with chroma.
This image can never be repeated, the illumination
constantly changing from our dynamic relationship
to Helios, trees dying with the photographer’s eye.
