Sport 40: 2012
The Order of Things
Sometimes I forget the three, four, ﬁve
of the things that have been. So I go back
over it, to keep the order alive.
Remember that yellow house on the gravel drive,
our castle-on-the-hill cum weatherboard-shack?
Sometimes I forget the three, four, ﬁve.
I remember my sister wanting some Levis
and the Christmas that Mum gave us a kayak.
That was when Granddad was still alive.
There was that shed with the vacant beehive,
where Dad built a tree-house like a bivouac.
But really, I’ve forgotten the three, four, ﬁve.
I remember walking through the farm, and I’ve
come to thinking that was with a knapsack—
to kill the weeds but keep the grass alive.
When it was time for me to learn how to drive
I asked how I’d know which gear came next.
It’s difﬁcult to keep the order alive
when I get confused with three, four, ﬁve.