No Certainties

[busker]

Thanks

No Certainties 

Three types of cloud today 
but I don't know to name them.
Nimbus? I like that, a halo.

I look at shadows, their colours;
at the bright flowers carefully kept
in Centennial, busy now with Sunday.

And the cover of your bed was folded ... not sure if the “and” is needed. End in a full stop
and I woke from my dream shuddering ... “and”  - delete
and thought you were gone.

On the phone, your accent, as you ask 
in the patient way of a stranger,
Why not fly over, just for a visit?


 

I like how the poem starts idly, and builds to a climax.
There’s a mystery in the identity of the person on the phone, which doesn’t quite need an explanation.
Good one.

However, I would prefer “Centennial Park”, given that there are only 4.8 mn Sydneysiders, and perhaps 500k  in the eastern burbs?