A smouldering grid on a cypress stand
Leaving Melbourne, the highway curves slowly past estates
There’s no silence like the silence of a huge crowd
Leaving Melbourne, the highway curves slowly past estates
It took Cain a lifetime of black sweat
When we found our way back to what used to be our home
When Dad’s gait became too unsteady even for a walking-stick
Before the storms arrived last night, constellations danced
Over red clay that’s been turned for my Dad’s tombstone
Above trees I can see through the kitchen window
The dreamtower lifts itself towards a night sky
An announcement that buses have replaced trains for the evening rush hour
blue- and gold-fringed morning cloud sees her off
Galileo climbed to the top of the tower from where he addressed his students
How discreetly birds must die elsewhere!
Over familiar suburbs, the mountain’s blue silhouette
In her wide-open sanctuary