fitzroy crossings

it's a country full of criss-crossing travel lines

with tracks visible and not so visible

of all those who wander back and forth

two days into a 5 day stint

i'm sittting at a window overlooking Albert Street

just down from the Treasury Gardens

my walk to work each day takes me through the lovely

backstreets of Fitzroy

on my way i gather pocketfuls of windfall leaves

and discover treasures on walls

and in gutters

it’s a good thing my pockets are generous in size

 

the clothes i wear are dyed with leaves

as if i have slept in the park

funny how the city i was born in is the one i look most out of place in now

on my first day here i lug a large leaf dyed bag of samples

another leaf dyed bag full of windfall harvests from the park

and a big garbage bag full of prunings given to me by the florist

 

parents nervously shepherd their children when they spot the strange bag-lady

in the park, gathering leaves and bark

and the odd twig

back in the middle ages they might also have crossed their fingers behind their backs

making the sign against evil

 

people walking to work look at me pityingly

a homeless person gives me a challenging look [clearly this is not my patch]

and a police officer sitting in a car by the side of the road takes out a notebook

and makes notes [or perhaps he draws funny faces to fill in time]

Fitzroy has a strange witch haunting the streets

and collecting leaves

 

the students have each been asked to bring ten windfall leaves to class

to enfold in their samples stitched from fragments of silk, wool, cotton, linen and hemp

those pale zigzag patterns are from banksia leaves acting as a resist