By Vita Forest
There’s a poem in
The way we hate vegemite
And the way others don’t
The excuses she makes for missing
every single meeting
The vibrating cat that sits perched on my lap
Like a humming loaf
The scarlet red of the flowers on the coral tree and
the way they fall apart if you remove them from the tree
The smiling girl in the photo who just last week
tried to kill herself
The rock that you step over on the path
In the shape of a heart
The shriek as we leap the channel surging back to the sea
And land heavy-heeled in the retreating water
The light patter of rain
On the hood of my new black raincoat
The bowl full of shells
That sits in the middle of the table.
Poems
everywhere.