Blessing
Sunlight broken over pebblesa wash of reflected light between cool walls:
stone built as a shaped welcomewhere day or night can wander in.
When you have packed and walkedwith my mother-blessingand the rip of apron strings
when you walk with your lovera loved child at each concrete-gritted hand
I turn back within these wallsand link fingers with an old silence.
Lunch
Elegant young manlunching munch on chipsfrom paper at the bus stopno doubt it's in your leaseon Adam's higher groundto smile snake-eyeddown your nosequirk your greasy lipto set asidesome fat old bagindulging in an apple.
Lacunae
There are edges:day's end, the tram road brokenby a street laid across
all mappedby the appointment grid ruled offor the local area directory.
These taunt him withspaces between their harddamaged certainties.
He scratches whether reallyhe remembers. Walked up a streetover some day's end, over tram tracks
crossed into running downslopealmost his swung arms and breath recall:wasn't there someone something
Chorale
A heavenly choirsome individual faces at the frontand all the rest in the careful fuzz of distancecomputer-generated to a full infinity
is not the blest world that ripens its harvest of God:each fern frond fractally patternedon the DNA of all, thereby mostits simple intricate self, each and allin everything the same difference: self,the tentative crooklet, green out of the tan stalkenquiring outwards, 'So is thisme?' Charged with the boundless burden of God'sscatterbrained focused invention, eachis yes myself. No replications.An infinity of front row faces.
Aileen Kelly is an Australian poet whose work has won major awards. Latest book: The Passion Paintings (John Leonard Press).