Uncommonly strong, it stays purple,
while elsewhere the street is lined
with debris from seasons
which the trees soon forgot.
Confused fig-leaves turn golden,
drop to the ground as rain gushes gutters
and sunscreen, umbrellas,
opposites, swap in uncertain hands –
yet lilac and stoic at the end of my street
Jacaranda declares it is summer.
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Published by Matthew Pullar
Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.
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I love Jacarandas. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing a carpet of purple blossoms or seeing dozens of these gorgeous trees peeping over the roofs of houses.
Me too! The jacaranda on my street has made me happy every time I have come home from work these last couple of weeks.