June/July 2010




walleah press


Moon over Lavender Bay

                  For Brett Whiteley

Late November jacaranda petals toss on pathways,
fidget rainsoaked parkland near your house. Sheets on your line
are gessoed
pastures of moist intent.
Below, the loosefisted harbour begins to stir. Your laughing
on its window ledge strains for a view. Ferns stiffen over one another
to climb your turret, clamber for
sinewy footholds.
No moon tonight, but everything still bursts
with what you named, your wavering hand on yachts’ spines,
tendrils of hair, criss-
crossing shadows, corrugations of high tide.
In ochre &
ultramarine you still say race you to the beach
and back, insisting to Patrick that cerise and orange announce optic
ecstasy, allowing yourself once more to
wander over
the sleeping model’s impossible abundance, going absolutely out
on a limb.
Radiant wide-eyed
you jostle amongst us, full of
midutterance, fussy drips, savage hatching, screen-saver jitters, have
briefly stepped outside.

Vaughan Prain lives in Bendigo and teaches in the Faculty of Education at La Trobe University. His poetry has been published in various Australian
literary magazines.