our streets already silent as Christmas
but for eyes jealousy, a curtain breathing.
Grant us one more day: teachers teach, plumbers plumb
(with dim accuracy) and writers, one verb is required
before Land Cruisers are hitched to caravans
for coastal shacks and camping grounds.
Whoever’s left behind will stay behind;
who lives alone will continue so,
waking in pale heat, sweating a little
drafting spiritual songs on winter blooms
and, along the blazing avenues
wander, fitfully ducking from shade to shade.
Image: Unidentified small girl leaping onto the beach, c. 1930s, by Sam Hood, c/- State Library NSW on Flickr. An almost summer poem after Rilke’s wonderful A Day in Autumn. Laura is hosting Dverse tonight and introduces us to the work of American surrealist poet Samuel Greenberg (1893-1917). Yes, he was only 24 when he died of tuberculosis. His 1915 poem The Pale Impromptu – published posthumously, contains a string of 21 ‘charms’ – pairs of words that run down the poem like a charm bracelet. Laura asks us to include five of these in our poem. I’ve chosen: Dim Accuracy, Eyes jealousy, Pale heat, Spiritual songs and Yellow dreams.