Walking down main street after the poets’ workshop

[Recent sonnet, situated in local town of Moss Vale. Photos taken in March in Katoomba on my Samsung phone.]

Walking down main street after the poets’ workshop

the blinking sign on the Thai massage brothel
is still as eternally Open
as God’s eye, the future, heaven or hell

the moon a banana ember in the northwest,
supine harp invisibly stringed to scales of stars
each powering its particular seraphic pitch

suddenly, the road: a loud river of silence rushing
into presence, ecstatic to be rid of the mad fast fish
of its traffic oblivious to their still medium

between the cattery, hairdresser, used car yards,
an old weatherboard now glowing a warm room’s light
into a soft promise of stillness, holding, childhood

as fall’s first winter bite finds the skull’s thin skin,
old depilating azimuth of the empty sky within

~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on July 20, 2019.

5 Responses to “Walking down main street after the poets’ workshop”

  1. Very nice poem Peter. Already the title is great and the pictures fits very well. Greetings from Europe. Christoph

  2. Just wonderful, Peter…poem and pics!

  3. Merci beaucoup, Kristi. Guess you’re still on glorious summer vac? ‘Winter’ here down under even at 700 m is still only around 10-15 degrees C and hardly any real frosts at night, thus codling moth larvae and other pests don’t get decimated enough…State of NSW also in official drought and some country towns are starting to run out of water…Most farmers now accepting fact of climate emergency, better late than never…But no real radical action of course emerging from that as yet…

  4. Similar weather oddities in these rural hills as well…a general acceptance of climate chaos, but still varying opinions as to why…ranging from gods wrath to science…and an undecided middle…
    Guessing the pendulum will have to swing pretty far…”all of nature speaks to me, if I could just figure out what they’re trying to say…” (a paraphrased recollection of a Laurie Anderson song)

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