It could start here, again,
summer on the edge of instant war
night flowering under courage
stole from municipal stars
where olive leaves
in freshly graded parks
look slightly lossy in the breeze,
& dry as moonlight.
The cities will all fall
into an open sky,
your epidermis tracked by satellites
a shadow in the fusive afterglow
of hydrocarbon jets.
So goodbye, go out & find
what there is to say
of transformation, the sparkle, junk
and greenest hearts. Go out
before the world knows you’re not.
Peter Minter is a poet living in Sydney, Australia. His most recent collection is Morning, Hyphen, published by Equipage, Cambridge, and his new collection blue grass will appear soon.