Bins at the curb, I pausein a night of deep quietand catchthe thought that no-one else is here.Sleepy suburban street rarely parties;nights are seldom wild around here.Yet silence catches with surprise:no-one walking home from shops,no night-time joggers,no cars coming home.No feet sharing this curb with mine.And this weekly domestic act becomesa moment of strange resistance,aContinue reading “After Curfew”
What the day brings is anyone’s guess:Students in masks, temperature checks at the front gate,But what else? Prognoses and rules change by the minute;What yesterday was harmless today may destroy.Brave new day that has such features in it.And so, the day lying openLike a box, like a question,I rejoice to see vermilion horizonThat smiles onContinue reading “Quarantine Morning”
I wrote this poem yesterday for the third installment in a series of videos about being a neighbour. As I wrote, I was contemplating the prospect of my Melbourne suburb being the next to go into lockdown. Little did I know that today the whole city would be put back into lockdown. So I’m postingContinue reading “In Our Father’s House”
I’m looking forward to sharing a number of videos of poems from my upcoming book Les Feuilles Mortes in the coming weeks, including several from my friends and readers across the world. Here is the first, a letter written in quarantine to my young children.