This I would say: love life
for what is always beyond you,
the perfume of a girl who has gone
just as you entered the room,
the ripple on the bright pool
of the fish already steadily swimming
elsewhere, the cat’s foot-fall
on the purring carpet, the smile
on the face that is turned ever so slightly
away from you, no insult intended,
so that you are never quite sure
whether what you saw
ever really happened
(girl, fish, cat, smile)
until the very last
when you know
and the pencil falls
blunted
Bruce Dawe
