A litre weighs a kilogram
Our lawn's the neighbourhood disgrace.
In winter-soggy Newcastle -
rain flooding in torrents down the spillways -
we refuse to hose the summer-yellow lawn.
Grey drizzle dampened washing
through thirty years of Melbourne drought,
but failed to soak the soil.
I kept some precious plants alive
with bathwater siphoned down the stairs,
mourning each sick brown stick.
But even then, clean water was on tap
to drink, and wash, and cook - a miracle!
No one had to walk half the day, or half an hour,
to line up at the village pump,
jugs on her head or bottles in her hand.
Water's a heavy subject.
A litre weighs a kilogram,
wherever on Earth you are.
My sister rang in yesterday's heatwave,
nervous if I'd say yes
to an Oxfam gift this year,
water for a distant school
somewhere in Africa.
I said yes,
and tried to stop the precious water
leaking, wasted, down my face.