Graeme Hetherington: Three Poems
Gaol-Bird
I tracked a bird’s broad arrow-print
Around the bay to where it lay,
Crane, heron, or an egret near
Beached fishing boats, neck wrung to judge
From its head lolling back the front.
Then I chanced on and scared its mate
That rose into a tree to watch,
Coldly return my heart-felt look
Of sorrow, till away it flew
And I was left, a member of
A killer-breed to feel its scorn
For my apology for life,
The nature of existence, yet,
Descended from a class that wore
The same sign as its foot-mark, I
Thought also that we should be friends.
Beach Walk, Binalong Bay
A woman with a cut bruised face,
Perhaps from a “domestic”, has
Gone limping for a swim and left
A man to hold her clothes and wait,
To kick in a confusion of
Embarrassment, atonement, rage
The sand while scowling sideways from
Beneath a lowered brow at me,
Endangered chance witness to his
Emotionally explosive mix.
Afraid to pass I pause and gaze
Fixedly…
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