134
Deansway
We moved into a house that sang,
each room a smile like it needed us there.
So we imprinted ourselves in tall colours,
deep carpets, pinned our dreams in between.
And for a while it worked,
the safety and comfort, until I wanted more.
But how could I tell you
I longed for the sun in all its wide blue?
That what you told me each day
I no longer felt, wished it would lessen for you?
And as time marched on, the wallpaper changed,
it grew thick and dark, crept closer.
When I looked, I found
all the words I must say, a new pattern,
that would soon reach the door.
J. V. Birch
lives
in Adelaide, Australia. Her poems appear in a number of Australian,
British, Canadian, and American periodicals. She has published
a full-length collection, more than
here,
with Ginninderra Press, as well as three
chapbooks:
Smashed glass at midnight, What
the water & moon gave me, and A bellyful of roses.