Dale Harcombe Poems

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 My daughter raises the smooth
 brass kaleidoscope
 and watches as coloured glass slivers
 conspire together.
 New worlds create themselves before her eyes.
 Garnet spires flirt with sapphire
 and turquoise.
 Topaz and amethyst meet in harmony,
 a selenic mystery.
 A melody of stars singing a tune only she
 can hear.
 Eclectic patterns shiver and shimmer
 then splinter,
 sparking off at...Read more of this...

 Frail as smoke, she drifts
  through the crowded train, 
  bringing with her 
  the cold ashes of poverty. 
  Without a word, her bruise-blue eyes 
  try to niggle each passenger 
  to part with coins or a note.

  The sign pleads her story:
  Three children in foster care.
 ...Read more of this...

 Your ears will never hear sounds
  that to me are ordinary as air.
  From the hour that you were born
  the tight white shell of silence
  closed around you. 
  You edged away from friendship.
  Silence clung and stung like sand, 
  smothering words before they could
  break free.
  Sand...Read more of this...

 This time I know
  I will never see him again.
  For a time he played the game,
  like a child experimenting with blocks,
  building towers and fortresses
  but never bridges.
  Bridges are hard.
  Invariably his feet would slip,
  before he found 
  the acceptance parents had denied
  and other...Read more of this...

 All week, in this rented house, 
 sea spray and whispers of wind 
 weave through the eucalypts, 
 like a Sondheim melody.
 Through the pewter leaves
 the sea glimpsed from the wooden deck 
 is, at times, teal silk. 
 Other days it is grey.

 Longing stirs like waves 
 about to break on the shore
 and sometimes...Read more of this...

 The hushed dark hugs the streets.
  Somewhere a cat snaps the silence.
  Dogs begin to bark, like a pack
  moving in for the kill.
  Women shrink in their homes.
  Shadows slip
  through the night and
  stars dim their lights
  as cars flash past.
  When they disappear,
  silence, heavy as...Read more of this...