Walleah Press

Famous Reporter 41 : July 2010



Famous Reporter 41




Three poems



On sills, ledges, shelves
there is a film of dust
my mother called it
the days falling through the air.


What if……

In emptying the deer’s brown pond eyes,
snagging the last gill breath, falling swift
feathered flight ……
we are plucking the heart from love.


Who Knows

I wonder will I dress on the morning of my death.
Will I fill the kettle, open the doors to the garden,
and turn on my tiny radio
or will I know there is only time for praying?

Libby Goodsir lives and writes in Hobart.