eastern line

By | 1 August 2021
as much as we imagine reliable
emotional landscapes in the blink
of a grazing cow’s eye life is re-invented
paddocks & a station rush past
look & sigh, elsewhere without colluding
with the overwhelm to explain
layers beneath feelings behaviour
in mid-sentence a sudden chill
ends the conversation one’s theory
of the universe no longer tenable
as much as we function without
humour or rainy-day attire
(remember on the island when we got caught
in a sudden deluge?)

on the eastern line steel wheels
clatter the tracks train, window
cows chew cud a dutiful father
listens—his keen eye roves the light

tail-swish ball…bell…balance—ear-flick

his voice falters along the suture line
aberrant cells sweep aside the gift of life
truth—paddocks yellow-grey grass
shimmers—head-long to evening.

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