Night is almost done now, though dark
perseveres. Young tomatoes
catch
a ray of streetlight, wrapping
their
skins in it – for mystery, not for warmth.
Grapefruit
loom, monsters of the night-bowl,
awaiting
their date with brekky destiny.
(Coffee
is on now. It won’t be long
before
plungers and hungers assume command.)
And
you, my love: you sleep on.
It’s
been six weeks since you took a break
and
the work in your heart is almost gone.
A
wonderer be! Graze on those salads
of
nightly roaming! Dress your shoulder
with
patchwork rest! Dream deep and long!
Dawn
is pale and rosy-fingered
in
Melbourne, as in any Greek town.
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