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.