five days in
dark rooms begin
to lose their menace

alone or close enough
domestic ghosts
nowhere to be seen

but in the hum
of unfamiliar stillness

this country house
listens
more than speaks

takes notes
stretches out its tall spine

in my room
the ladder to widow’s walk
sighs in upward slumber

there is so much here
of you, Eleanor

this thoroughfare in veneration
of your work

the first book I choose
has your impression

I thought once that I saw you
by the fire

but we aren’t introduced
to one another

and in this quiet
I am looking for stories

 

In 2012, I spent a week working on my manuscript at Varuna (once the house of Australian author Eleanor Dark), courtesy of CAL.