A spiral, fir-green staircase
Opened this parade of music
And drifting down in a patchwork knitted poncho
Limes
Strawberries and watermelons
A little old guy
Face etched with the songs of time

A make-shift stage
For the Pheasant Pluckers
Larrikan musos
Prancing beats
"Fire in my belly! Fire in my soul!
You don't have to worry as Fire's in control"
But I smiled, when, for one musical moment
They sighed in sweet frustration
About some girl
Not yet met

Seething fields of Sunday walkers
Yarra dreaming
A harmony of textured rhythms
Suited in grey
Lovers
Bike riders
Skateboarders
And many walking the dog

But one couple drifted
In the music of solitude
A river cruise
A tiny boat
He stood behind her
Arms wrapped close around her
And together
As one
They sailed by

And then there were those
Playing visionary melodies
To any who chose to stop
And wonder
Awhiles

Gold
Rustic gold
A breathing statue of gold
A tiny lady
Slim
Gowned
Drifting
Long, long curls framing a delicate face
Trapped
In symphonies of gold

And nearby
A painted koori
Alone
On paved steps
Playing wistful
Old Dreamings
On a didgeridoo