You trace the rail where salt spray falls
Your leather palms hear harbor calls
Acacia leaves turn silver-white
As day surrenders to the night
Root systems drink the brine below
While gum trees sway in winds that blow
Salt-stitched gloves hold dusk's last breath
While windswept pines dance close to death
You listen deep where roots embrace
The harbor's slow and tidal grace
No chlorophyll can catch this sound
Just leather wrapped around the ground
Eucalyptus oil on evening air
Your fingers catch the briny prayer
Banksia cones split open wide
With nothing left to lose or hide
Xanthorrhoea spears the violet sky
Your stitching hums a lullaby
The Opera House wears coral light
Your stitching creaks in cooling night
Ferries cut through phosphorus trails
While kookaburra laughter fails
Mangrove roots hold fast in muddy sand
You feel the pulse of sea and land
Salt-stitched gloves hold dusk's last breath
While windswept pines dance close to death
You listen deep where roots embrace
The harbor's slow and tidal grace
No chlorophyll can catch this sound
Just leather wrapped around the ground
Quercus roots grip sandstone deep
Leather vigil does not sleep
No photosynthesis here tonight
Just leather, salt, and waning light
Cambium layers record the strain
Of harbor wind and winter rain
Morning comes with golden wattle bloom
Your leather warms in breathing room
The harbor wakes to gulls' sharp cry
You witness dawn from where you lie
Stomata open to the blue
Salt crystals sparkle, morning dew
Salt-stitched gloves hold dawn's first breath
While windswept pines dance back from death
You listened deep where roots embrace
The harbor's eternal tidal grace
No chlorophyll could catch that sound
Just leather wrapped around the ground
Leather remembers what roots know
Sydney dusk and harbor glow
Salt-stitched, you watch the tide ebb slow
