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Famous Reporter 37

Currajah

 

MAL ROBERTSON

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     Eve

                                                                            

He points out threads I should have seen;

gossamer paddocks in Golden Valley,

my eyes still falling over the Western Tiers.

Cartesian, ex-farmer

predicts webs before they appear,

sun slung to the west,

rounding in milking cows,

cloven, thread borne, dewy lint

late lacing manna autumn pasture.

Some refractive fault of eye,

perfect play of rods on cones

in macular conception.

We are passing,

God's own commuter country

en route to Deloraine.

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Mal Robertson is currently working on a collection of poems that explore links between place, character and the passing of time. He reads at the Republic Bar, and teaches in Hobart where he lives with his family.