Unconsoled Spaces
for AC


In a cousin’s home in Melbourne:
Sophie von Otter’s voice is heard
from across the living room,
singing songs about re-discovering
unconsoled spaces from the past.

Then a wintry sun catches suddenly
a glimpse of the breakfast table.
There’s fire in my teacup, its rim’s aflame,
and my first brew for the morning
is all aglow. Then silence can be heard

and motionless objects in the kitchen
can be seen moving as if possessed
by some undisclosed energy,
as if conceiving of a new focal centre.
The kettle on the stove moves

in opposite angles to the sun and
the Alessi sugar bowl is overcome
with distraction. A spoon on the table
hovers in mid air. But they have
moved on (just like you have),

without having to ponder
a sense of right and wrong,
now being so sure of mind,
undisturbed and uncaressed,
and with no prolonged goodbyes.


___________________________
Some of my best memories of Melbourne centre around my cousin’s dining table in his home off Brunswick Street. I used to love to sit at that table to read the morning papers while having breakfast. And sometimes I would dream about strange things like ex-boyfriends and men who used to woo me in my youth. “AC” is one of them.