Poetry Journal

Issues / Volume 5 Issue 1 , July 2015


Calls like storms

Dugald Williamson

  A bluestone house next to the park, 
  Near the edge of a country town. 
  No scores to settle, yet a voice 
  That wants fear to be the answer. 
  Unrecognisable laughter.
  Look, he could taunt a bear, tell you 
  He knows where your children are on 
  A spinning globe, make stars break down 
  Over cypress that shuts off light, 
  Out of thin air make headlamps flare 
  On the bay window, and set fire 
  To a brace of brollies by the door.
          Friends wondered who, why. A hard fact: 
          Some wed dark fantasy, and act.