I take a torch to 4am
climb the stairs so I can be closer to the moon
or Venus, something private, divine
Moisture on the roof out of nowhere
suggests autumn is creeping in
like the possum whose red eyes in the beam
are jewels of curiosity or fear
They are so like children
The sky is alive with winged things
They seem to be partying
I envy them Here I am
prowling around the human dead zone
longing for something startling to happen
Julie Maclean has published seven poetry collections. A full manuscript, shortlisted for the Crashaw Prize (Salt) won the Geoff Stevens Memorial Poetry Prize (‘When I Saw Jimi’, Indigo Dreams, 2013). Her work appears in POETRY (Chicago), EVENT (Canada) and The Best Australian Poetry, among others. www.juliemacleanwriter.com