Eleven lines from Nowhere

The void was a unit of darkness, our bodies an instant, a clap. 
By and by the water shook, no, trembled, on the verge of tears. 
The leaves had no destination. 
My face doesn’t tell the time, but everything was cornered, like a lawn. 
To the left, a deliberate flaw, to the right, a bent flower, 
I’ve found what I was looking for. 
Tree-diagrams helped explain the forest: 
Her eyes, longing over the couch, 
And her hands. Their beautiful dexterity didn’t tell the time. 
She left trailing the scent of mimosa, mimos . . . 
Summer’s salt-laden mist was turning to tears as we spoke. 


Cath Vidler edits Snorkel, an online literary magazine specialising in creative writing by Australians and New Zealanders. In 2001 she was a member of the editorial collective for the inaugural issue of Turbine. Cath’s poems have also appeared in Sport, and the online journals NthpositionOtolithsTroutCordite and Alba.