Looking up, the players have gone. Punctual as death, dogs sniff their way otherwhere. A woman in a cosmic hat strings a flag between saplings, lies on her back – waiting. For whom do we ever wait? Not the team, yet the team returns. What have they shared among the trees, whom importuned? A stray psychological sign drifts across the field, omened.
Peter Rose is a poet, memoirist and novelist as well as being the editor of Australian Book Review. His new novel, Roddy Parr, has just been released by 4th Estate.
© Peter Rose
Overland 204-spring 2011, p. 115
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