glass poem

By | 1 June 2022
after Adrienne Rich’s ‘Song’

with waves in it
the voice
sounds softly

now we are in the apartment
twenty two
hours of each day
i am noticing the drip of white paint
like a long unfinished cry
on the window pane
instead of the view

wind inverts
the moreton bay figs
so the matte olive underbelly
replaces high gloss
and the whole tree points
is a cone

two hours of summer
on the princes park loop
scrapes underfoot
kicks up
in our eyes

two hours of
winter, clay
we come along

all the times
mum was a batshit sculptor

for example
the morning
a sharp loud crack rang
through the lounge room
and pressed into
every corner
of the house
a split appeared in the picture window
running from top left
to the centre
like a lightening bolt
a builder said
the whole
left side of the house
had shifted a
down the hill
on account of
poor drainage
water seeping through
the foundations
mum superglued
flat glass marbles
the fish tank kind
along the crack
an ornament
of waiting
i stopped
bringing friends to the house
so i would not have to explain her craft

first we will get a new bookshelf
and sell the current bookshelf
the table, another foot to the wall
brings new satisfaction
avoiding wood
for the fire

the plane over the roof
carved its way
from the left jamb to the right
first in memory
yes, i’m lonely

the voyagers have left the heliosphere
i read that they experienced a chill
and a new density of plasma
‘interstellar space is here’
they beamed back faintly to a 70 metre dish
the solar wind is not fading
as some thought
says voyager 1
it is up against a boundary
unimaginably massive
but, says voyager 2
the boundary is sharp, thin, sudden and
impossibly spherical

they keep moving
away from us
and each other
their arc and
into the silence of space
will be longer than the earth can quake

old windows
are thickest at the bottom
and sometimes warp their frames
i imagine it
still a timeless liquid
drop by
look in
be still the curtain

a small plastic bag
which carried oranges, nuts, lettuce
or perhaps some lollies
for about half an hour
waits silently
10,975 metres deep in the mariana trench
a retired naval officer
dived all the way down
to see it twinkling
in the headlights of his submarine
does life give out its secret?

each night
the moon auditions
but this is
no show
we have a gift for watching

an animal on the ground
looking skyward
is still
an animal
on the ground

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