This dropped
as a bird fluttered free
from a claw. This:
black waves, soft sines
gathered and stitched
along a wand. This
is not an artefact. Between
its closed hooked ranks
its flaw, a slit, diffracts
the light. I long
to give the smooth folds
of this to my fingers, take
its intricate truth, but if
I caress, my adamant
digits will unrender this,
unpick, unzip, split, crush,
scramble its whispered Is.
On the turned face
of my fist, with the breathy tip
of this, I tickle the trace
of a wish.
From A coat of ashes.
First published in The Authorised Theft Papers, the Australasian Association of Writing Programs’ 2016 conference proceedings.
Proudly included in the Western Australian poetry anthology Recoil 10: Ten Years of Perth Poetry Club, Mulla Mulla Press 2019.
First published in The Authorised Theft Papers, the Australasian Association of Writing Programs’ 2016 conference proceedings.
Proudly included in the Western Australian poetry anthology Recoil 10: Ten Years of Perth Poetry Club, Mulla Mulla Press 2019.