Poetry
The wild White Nun, rarest and loveliest
Of all her kind, takes form in the green shade
Deep in the forest. Streams of filtered light
Are tapped, distilled, and lavishly expressed
As petals. Her sweet hunger is displayed
By the labellum, set for bees in flight
To land on. In her well, the viscin gleams:
Mesmeric nectar, sticky stuff of dreams.
Motherlode: Australian Women’s Poetry 1986 – 2008 by Jennifer Harrison and Kate Waterhouse
by Lyn McCredden •
Saturday. The usual 9 a.m. flight.
The man beside me hefts a Gladstone.
‘I haven’t seen one of those in years,’
I say, this being sociable Saturday.
I recall a worn one from my twenties
owned by someone else. Always empty
A doctor with a face
worn and grey as his cardigan
calls my name
in his rooms
he asks about the book I’m reading
I tell him
... (read more)Vincent Buckley edited by Chris Wallace-Crabbe & Journey Without Arrival by John McLaren
by Gregory Kratzmann •