Author photo by Peter's son, Walter Bakowski

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The paper dolls

we had to dance
for a visitor’s amusement.

we are pinned
to a wall.

Our pencilled eyes
can’t blink away the dust.

Pale, thin,
we grip each other’s hands

and tremble
whenever the door

The above poem is from my new (fifth) poetry collection, Personal Weather, to be launched at The Wheeler Centre, Melbourne, at 6 p.m. on Tuesday, 4 March.

No comments:

Post a Comment