Gerry jacobson
Scene from a Marriage
on the trail just ahead of me a girl jumps over a tiger snake dear Reader I marry her1
It’s a glittering reception at Parliament House. We thank our hosts and walk out. The last bus has gone so we ring for a cab. Can’t get through to the taxi switchboard. Passers-by remind us there are 20,000 people just leaving the nearby music festival, all wanting cabs. So we walk. It’s a dark damp night and Madame is reluctant to shortcut through patches of bushland. I scramble over a wall to cross State Circle. I look back to see her walking along the top of the wall in an evening dress and high heels. A vision of being arrested like drunken teenagers. I turn back and she reminds me forcefully that with a hip replacement she can’t just jump down. She takes her heels off and walks barefoot. This pair of bushwalkers gets home at 2 am.
Greensleeves I have loved you so long2 but now my heart is blocked and yours is fibrillating
Author’s Note: Italicized text in tanka is a nod to 1Charlotte Bronte, and 2Henry VIII.
About the Author
Gerry Jacobson lives in Canberra, Australia, and can be found writing tanka in its cafés. He was a geologist in a past life and now celebrates reincarnation as a dancer.