Selected poems
Dawn service
But with the paling of the skyI think on what was left unsaid:
the hubris of a neat half-dozenempires in decline or rise;the lurches of diplomacy(paunches, medals, French champagne);dreadnoughts slicing northern seas;those wounds the centuries incisedand then too lengthily remembered.
Further south, around the curve,we thought about recruitment:the thrill of knocking rabbits withthe dew fresh on the grass;the beers bought after signing anda lack of jobs for fettlers,the pressure of white feathers.
As now the bugler offers uphis frugal clutch of notes.
Young George
What's he doing in my dream,that cardinal from Ballarat?He's in some sort of seventiespresbytery or hardwood hall,shirt-sleeved but with collar onand playing ping-pong like a pro,fully-focused, yet relaxed.Forehand, backhand, lob or smash,nothing is beyond his reach.The other player is unseenbut plainly worthy of attack.There's just the click of celluloidforeshadowing the rise to Rome.No ball hit that's not hit back.
Take that kelpie
Take that kelpie, just for starters,his owner still on methadoneand liberally tattooed,
a dog who overlooks stigmata,who brings a discipline that works.Guess the IQ of that poodle
who licks her plump, indulgent matronseated at a pavement table.How proudly she will soon be prancing
homeward on a spangled leash!Observe with me that smalltown widowand how her border collie's eyes
remind her so much of her husband,dead ten years this June.Note that ever-playful staffie
save his fellow adolescentevery day from fatal angst.Share the swagger of that dachshund
arriving with her mistress whothe universe has long agreedis hardly less important.
Note too the fluid blacks and brownswhich complement so well herowner's new Italian bag.
And don't ignore that huge alsatian,so much nicer than his boss —who keeps a lever-action shotgun
waiting in his shed.The breeds, we're told, are infinitebut right now I'm admiring
that somewhat-mongrel, off-leash bitchwho, nosing quietly on her way,is planning shortly to rejoin
a man with even less to say.
Geoff Page is based in Canberra and has published 22 collections of poetry as well as two novels and five verse novels. His recent books include Gods and Uncles and PLEVNA: A Verse Biography. He also edited The Best Australian Poems 2014 and The Best Australian Poems 2015.