The grey has settled here in Brisbane; no threat of sun to spill its light… but it’s the sweet sixteenth week of the Friday Night Lights Project, so let us brighten your mind with this weeks selection of words and images!
I might be in love with the mockingbird
building his girl’s nest from showy wax shrub
a handy man who can still dive cooly
to chase the low down cats.
It could be the way he has a soft side
under his wing, secret information
so well adapted he doesn’t need hands
and makes me wait, moving deliberately
before he eats the fruit.
Your throat, exposed
like a stretch of white
sand, can sink ships
and though the evening is sharp
and the stars, dark and sweet
don’t imagine I’ll come after you.
No, wild heart, you’re not the only poetry
though you may be the best, at least
against this growing chill.
Here with the winged sounds of insects
and the heron standing sentry
a loneliness that could fatten eels
tries to replace you.
As I write this, clouds are being born
and the river gods turn in their sleep.
And so I wait -
there is so much time.
The dye runs from black to red to blue.
It will be early soon and blown
on a wind of longing, this ship
will sail through.