Cecilia Morris: Sestina
Sestina
There was her diary unveiling my father’s secret,
she was aware of his visits when she’d left the house
on nights that she’d worked. Because on her return home
he was very elated, my bedroom door not quite
closed, the pink bedspread held the form of his secret.
She knew of his strange gaze on me when we played.
Feared loss of their marriage and remained pleasant,
told friends repeatedly of her husband’s manly virtues.
Now I house no secrets, and as I watch my children play
discover joy in quietness, family life so pleasurable:
harbour no secrets and know hope is a virtue.
Bright memories now housed in my mind, children playful,
owls hoot calling at night when it’s quiet darkness pleasurable.
Now no secrets I rejoice in a life real not virtual.
Cecilia Morris
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins