Friday, May 27, 2016

26.5.16 (#145) In the Black Window by Myron Lysenko

in the black window
a hand wiping at the cheek and overhanging hair

           white cat coming out between legs
fan on at the start of winter to cool the laptop
                  the electric heater on too

                            the election campaign
you said this, I did not, you did too, well you said this

at the foot of the great dividing range
black forest smoke, black forest smoke, wet roads,

                                                  the band plays a dozen songs slowly
                                           female voices and harmonies
             the moon briefly through clouds
                my mother my mother are you still alive
               my father my father my father dementia

    our new chicken henpecked onto the coop roof
in the tree of the  black window of night

the door opens and you come in with the moon
stars hover in the background


  1. Great. This is so very beautiful, Myron. Just beautifully wrought - your incredible use of repetition in the heart of the text is jaw dropping ....


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.