Shifting lights

The Perth Poetry Festival opened last night with a wonderful keynote speech from Kim Scott. The venue reminded me so much of Robert Drummond's old studio on the banks of the Barwon back home. There was much free wine and cheese and pate and a whole lot of love.
Bless you dear blog, for I could at least come up with one poem to read at open mic.
More readings tomorrow and an extra Voicebox this Monday.

The week just gone was full but also starting to crack with my own fears.
But last night - last night was wonderful. It fixed so much.


An abbreviated promise
the press of your hand in the dark
the waiting morning
will wash everything white
moving shadows
and the shifting lights

An abbreviated promise
your posture: a question mark
the gentle fray we fall into
with the clink of plastic glasses
moving shadows
and the shifting lights

An abbreviated promise
will become a mere figment
sought-after memory
of the question that owns no answer
moving shadows
and the shifting lights


In the arms of my city, I curl safe in the knowledge it'll still be here when I open my eyes.