Y’ard Gravy.

Started my day at the dawn service.
I’m not overly patriotic, but I did want to see what it was all about.
I’ll be back in another 100 years.

I went for a long jog,
Someone added the pulp back into my apple juice that I’d slaved over.
I ended at the lookout over Cornelian Bay.

I marched my way into the nearby graveyard,
Looking for quotes and the most unappreciated looking grave.
I found a few of each, none that covered both criteria.

The russians(?) have an interesting way of representing the cross.
Everyone wants to be different.
I jogged back, stopping in at north Hobart for a coffee and florentine.

I returned home, energised and warm.
Feeling I wont weather this winter very well.
Quality time with dad and some pals, put the shopping away.

I left my phone and headphones at my cousins,
So i’ll be going for a jog again tonight.
Dinner was snacks.

Read some more Yeats in my spare hour between study.
Such talent, I truly am awestruck sometimes.
Not enough hours in the day.

Made some Pope puns.
Un-Pope-ular by majority.
Then I thought about jobs and where I might otherwise apply myself.

All this free time,
All this sacrifice
All so lucky.

“The luck of the Anzacs”

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