Poems by Cameron Lowe

Considering Ern Malley’s The Darkening Ecliptic
on a fine spring morning in the front garden
it’s not so much the caterpillar
itself —
but the shape
of the hole
it has left
in the heart
of the leaf



Clouds fracture —

            the weight of sparrows
                                      glass delusions —
green verge
            of painted days —
                         compress this
                                        out of silence
            winter’s edge —
the eye traces
                        toward definition —
            blue jeans
                         crimson leaves
                                      wing shapes
                         sharp light
                         the day beckons —
            patience flowers
                         in cool bowls
            a surface
                         to commence with —
                         there is much
                                      to be done
                         all that’s
            at the tip
                         of naked branches



The crisp sunlight, the pale
blue sky, are only part
of the subject —
better this Autumn
afternoon the orange
butterfly with
black-edged wings,
who by chance
enters the garden
that is no space
to him (or
her) at all,
who goes on through
the white pickets,
through the rust-
coloured grapevine —
of this poem