here's the photo

Here are the photos to accompany the poem in my last post! What a diving board!

away in caravan

There is nothing more conducive to writing than only taking 15 minutes to do the floor, the dishes and tidy up a tiny caravan. Then while Kel is away working I write. Later I walk- we are near an icon from the 60's, 70's- what a diving tower! ( I will upload the photo later- in other words I have to take another)
Can anyone remember diving off a high tower? But this was into the murky waters of a waterhole.

Here's a poem sketch instead:

It's the two fine saplings,
rich mahogany tips of leaves
that show swimming is over
has been over three, four, five years.
The gum trees crouch where
toddlers and mums with tiddler toes
watched pale yellow water sap
in Matisse strokes, with wind
and big kid splashes.
They'd watch the three level
diving tower and the boys
bombing away into ninety foot
once-mineshaft lake.
Of course the council gates and mesh
are there with the warnings
the risks, the flaking paint
and the murky unseen depths.

(C) Lorraine Marwood