by Ion Corcos

Carpet on the steps, white-painted handrail,
the way you left, the window light bright
on your absence. Last night’s storm knocked
part of the fence down, tore roof shingles,
threw a chair into the neighbour’s garden.
You’d brought a bunch of red tulips home,

put them in a glass jar on the dining table;
soon, they began to open, like the ones
we fell in love with, in Istanbul. We didn’t know
about sore knees then, the slowness
of an apple’s ripening, or how fast graupel melts –
not enough time to take a photo, touch it.

Ion Corcos was born in Sydney, Australia in 1969. He has been published in Cordite, Meanjin, Wild Court, riddlebird, The Sunlight Press, and other journals. Ion is a nature lover and a supporter of animal rights. He is the author of A Spoon of Honey (Flutter Press, 2018).