FacebookGoogle PlusInstagramLinkedInTwitter
Presented by State Library Victoria

Pixie of a Parking Lot

I love writing my poetry in busy crowded places. This one was written in a shopping mall parking lot. Surrounding me, there are  a few cars, but mainly dark, grey concrete and white lights. What if fairy lights were placed across the high ceiling?

Pixie of Parking

An array of light spread across a ceiling
Of white tiles and bumpy cracks
Short necks stretching to see the grid
Their pupils widening with the joy
Of colours- red and green- shining
Shimmering, glowing under the pretenses of a night sky long forgotten
Miniature fairies showing off goodies
Angles blessing the people with
A dazzling, ever-blinding light


Ever appealing to the eyes
Yet so complex, confusing to the mind
The choice slowing pulling apart the brain
Lighter shade, or darker?
The scary feeling of a wrong choice
Of a misinterpreted wall,
Turn drab concrete into sparkling
Pixies, children run, get your prize,
 Brightened hearts.