Poem Hunter
James Charlton (1947 - / Melbourne / Australia)


Your absence
holds the shape
of your face.

I repeat your name
in the night.

This chair
where you sat;
those days

in the park -
how far we wandered
in those days;

our manners delicate,
the air gentle.

A discontented man
would stare at you;

a burdened woman
look away
and feel

that she was you,
back when ...
and one day, you’d be her.

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