Wednesday, August 5, 2009


She is not going home, not yet.
It all recedes, the sound of him rattling
up and down the verandah, insomniac
louvres chattering.
Behind the shed she sits
on the pigeon shit, outstaring the darkness.
Here she is unbreakable. Alone with
the jigsaw of her hands, with all
their disquiet, the slough
of unusable areas of memory.
The wisteria hisses close
to her ear, sleep

Inside, he sinks into silence,
he can feel her still
close. In the darkness.
Her loud smile full of teeth, exclusive
greedy girl. It starts to hail.
He waits, snarls,
stubborn bitch


Anonymous said...

there is menace in the night, great visual images tight and taut writing,
this is poetry..... ken

Graham Nunn said...

Quiet and powreful Amanda... so good to have you back here.


Anonymous said...

An entertaining read, tantalizing visions. Thank you for writing this.

Paul said...

Hello again. That is a superb poem. Conjures a real sense of place, two real humans in the space and fierce but very subtly expressed emotion. All with a wonderful economy of words and great precision and detail.

Anthony Souls said...

Loved the emotions in the piece.

Duncan said...

Great imagery in the poem! I love it!

Eros said...

It's beautiful how it makes me remind something.

Anonymous said...

I loved this poem because of all the emotion that filled it and the situation you wrote about.

Mark said...

I loved the imagery when presenting the two conflicts within the poem. Great job!