South of the Border haiku edition no. 5

Another happy piece! This one started form two places. One was a survey published in the Herald Sun a few years back talking about the fact that, as popular as aussie rules is, only about 27 % of the people in this city actually gave a toss. And then that lead to thoughts on how the remaining majority viewed the sporting world as they passed their fields, ovals, and stadia along their walks and drives. Is it much the same way I, as an atheist, see religious buildings? Sort of quaint examples of a dying breed, or as something unfathomable and distant, in the case of stadia, constructions which include some and but not others? And what of the people who run around the lake every day? Do they not wonder at this large piece of real estate, the old and ew parts of it, all of its history, do they not think about its meaning and purpose? The other place this came from was the night I saw a possum on the ground outside just near the blue gates I think. You kinda forget that sometimes these things are there.

Structurally, this started as a strict 17 syllable piece, then it was broken down slightly, rebuilt, and ended up having 18 syllables. I had another word in place of 'obsolete', but it just didn't fit the poem in. The joggers and possums were the start of it, as you may have guessed, were the non-negotiable part. I like it, but I don't love it. Better than last week's to be sure. No season word, but the balance between structure/nature/humanity/choice/destiny, seems to sit there fairly well.


an obsolete temple;
choosing paths which lead away
joggers and possums