
Reader Submissions
Well-Known Corners of the People
karuna: a numbers poem
by
Henry Briffa
1.
an uneasy quiet descends upon our Hawthorn home
yet every evening increasing numbers of white cockatoos
glide and dive
playing in new-found freedom
2.
on the way to the bathroom
I look through the kitchen door
siting on the table is a rat
with the coat of a Guernsey
I try to stare him out
he looks straight through me chewing
he eats through The Saturday Paper
devouring sport and art
suffocating markets
scratching out flights
3.
in the paper my friend ’s letter:
I’m 59, happy to give my ventilator
to someone younger
I’m far less selfless
nearly 63
hope there’s one for me
4.
first bankroll of the social wage
the descent of our Virgin
the purchase and storage of oil
Great Scott prays his decisions are right
5.
since starting work on-line from home
and doing my best with D.I. Y.
I’m viewed more clearly
in her eyes
she no longer loves her image
of me but the flawed man I am
6.
can’t we just delete the digits owed?
will we stop to consider biodiversity?
will we now save
other forms of life?
7.
a man stands looking towards the Yarra
taking in the view
he turns towards me and says
I’m exercising
It’s ok I respond
I won’t be making a citizen’s arrest
8.
silent night
except for someone outside
a stranger walking in our cul de sac
whose coughing wakes me
Kuruna: Maltese for rosary-beads or prayer beads (but can also mean a crown) while in Greek prayer-beads and worry beads come from the same root and both involve counting.