Today I found a photo

of them—

he’d taken mum for

a big night out

the only time ever. . .

except for the Chinese

‘slap up’

in Gosford

some Friday nights

and there they are

sitting at a table

in ‘The Summit’

Seidler’s modernist cylinder

spinning towards a beige and glass future

through Mondrian grids

with his Elvis sideburns

and gravy-stained polyester

(he’d forgotten to use the napkin)

cufflinks heavy on the table

mum in her hairspray

and blue eyeshadow

framing so much

hope

turning on itself

where Galileo may have uttered

“Eppur Si Muove”