6. Bee Cee

She was resilient in a restless way

She run away from madness and filth

to blissful down bottom – a house by the bay

but kept returning to the madness and ‘kith’

It is clear that was her true North, though faraway


The smile on her face suggested she missed Canberra

A brief, far-away look, the tears barely suppressed

the mask of a random brave smile defying the mascara

We sipped coffee, she trying not to appear stressed

but it was clear her thoughts were tuned to another era.


She pointed at a man in the far end

of the coffee house, looked at me

and said ‘Bill over there was my boyfriend

He is 76 now, I think, seven years older than me

We drifted apart when our wounds refused to mend’


Then she took off on a tangent

to talk about her children – now all grown

and living their lives somewhere in the orient

With pensive bravery she said “since they’ve been gone

“I haven’t talked to them for 15 years and won’t again!”


As we stood up to go our ways

She looked at me and beyond

The thing in the watery depth of her eyes

stood still; she struggled to suppress a yawn,

as she said: “Kap, I am an editor, sad that I cannot edit my life.”


A week later, she died – of cancer.

She was my editor

A warrior not a worrier

Neither worried if the earth did not spin

Nor cared about the finer details of sin.

©Kap 2017

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