Author Archives: Vera

Retreat

I love being in your study, where I hate to move, lest I upset anything, as on an autumnal day, I never want to tread upon a fallen leaf, or change the play of light on branches of yellow and red. The chocolate-brown valet belongs right there against moon-white walls; your chair hasn’t been used, […]

Thomas

I got off the city-tram last night, and turned up a narrow alley-way, that led to the bus-stop for my connecting ride home. The doors to coffee-shops were closed; a black umbrella lay broken in one corner; and on the concrete ground was imbedded a message of the heart. Somebody loved somebody who loved her […]

Dark

What pleasure there is in sitting up on the couch in the small hours of the morning, sipping hot milk, looking out the window, where strings of orange bulbs on the horizon gleam like self-assurance, reading Whitman’s sublime Leaves of Grass, steeped in Chopin’s sweet Nocturnes, watching doctors on the silent tv fight to save […]

Leaves

Out amongst the branches The lovers are in bed He shuffles with sibilance Beneath the covers to lie on her Her bare legs spread into place His shoulders envelop her body The airborne bed rocking gently the stillness of dark In the quiet the suburb sleeps below their act, as Waves of street-lamps bend over […]

Melbourne

1. At 6 o’clock in a city tavern On Wednesday evening the autumnal air was frigid When will you light the open-fire I asked the attendant In June, he replied 2. It was $4 a bunch yesterday I say pointing at the $6 chard To the middle-aged shopkeeper I was 18 yesterday, she says. I […]

There is no scene

In which I would rather be wrapped Than this one: 8pm on a Saturday Sitting at my writing-corner Comfortable in a closet of organised mess Leather of the reading-chair cracked in places The cellphone sleeping A pen poised In it I get to think About the evening fog draped In folds from trees Leaves falling […]

Wand

Man, Five Points Square New York 1916. Paul STRAND  Exhaustion has its tale to tell Like the gaze beneath the dusty hat In the shadows, staring, unseeing, unknowing Sun slopes down the slum-houses upon a cheek The brown skin, curving mouth, tight jaw Showing up more years than are due — guileless light The afternoon […]