'Grape days' by Cameron Lowe | States of Poetry Vic - Series One
1
The sound of shovels scraping
gravel, voices
of men – the night's
heat
clinging still –
Awake to this, or
swimming
yet in sleep
you mumble –
A fly
is walking
on your forehead
2
'Ten thousand women
and I
the only one
in boots' –
Today, a thousand
cyclists
all dressed
in Lycra –
Sirens of fire-trucks
36º at 11
no figure 5
in gold –
3
Salmon in the cat's bowl,
chilli flower –
I water
cyclamen, you display
new shoes.
The stopped
clock:
12:16
wind change –
Of the snow dome
you write:
'this is not a place
not a world ...'
and yet –
4
After the heat, violence
of wind, the sound of it
in trees –
sun on the spider's web
by the white chair
star pattern in chalk
on the balcony –
details arranged, leaves
blowing down
the street
5
'Breathe it out quietly'
you write
'air thick as milk' –
The moon rises
over pines
police lights
on the esplanade –
you write:
'blackened leaves
swimming' –
the night
closes in, smell of spices
slow-cooking –
Cameron Lowe