Published in Overland Issue 243 Winter 2021 · Poetry Among the quietening air Allis Hamilton We slow down enough to grow a patch of moss on our legs where the shade lives longest. Do not look away. We are growing through the most alarming of days. And all I can often think about is the cake you baked that night on the fire we lit from sticks stolen from the dead tree. As the sun comes drooling over everything, we sing. The moon, a pink scoop of icecream in the golden sky. Read the rest of Overland 243 If you enjoyed this piece, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four brilliant issues for a year Allis Hamilton Allis Hamilton is an artist, musician, and teller of folk tales. She collects memories and discarded nests. She is a joint convener of ‘PoetiCas’, Castlemaine’s Poetry Readings. Her poems are published in Australia, England and Ireland. More by Allis Hamilton › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 3 November 20233 November 2023 · Poetry our neighbours poem Ender Başkan our neighbours face appears above the fence – hello. our neighbours have a chat with us. our neighbours learn our names. our neighbours become our friends. our neighbours landlord thinks the market is ripe. our neighbours are told to leave. our neighbours try to buy their house at an exorbitant price to keep their kids in the school zone. our neighbours are denied. First published in Overland Issue 228 25 October 202325 October 2023 · Poetry The inhabitants Elif Sezen I died today, among many others, my grandpa died too, and our neighbours, / my best friend, the one with braided hair yes, and our sweet sweet doctors, / our motherly nurses... We heard a blast, then a whoosh of some kind, / and all gone.
