Bag Lady

If I had a blue bag and it weighed a ton
I’d climb out of it, fill it with October sky.
In the bag I’d put farm gates, fences, a footpath.
I’d put trees, valleys, and hills wrapped
in silence and hues, in it.
I’d put in there every crow, magpie,
and galah in my street, every mockingbird,
the blooming apple tree in my front yard.
I’d find waterfalls and ancient caves
to put in there together with my neighbours’
soft chatter and wine-sipping on their porch.
I’d put in there my nanna who makes
the best cookies, ginger beer, and almond bread.
I’d put make-belief in the bag, lots of it,
and enough cauldrons to boil endless tales.
I’ll weigh the bag and find it weightless.
I’ll keep stuffing it with whatever may bring joy
then I’ll get back into the bag together
with the old windmill from my father’s farm
and find it’s weightless
                              weightless…