Published in Overland Issue 244 Spring 2021 · Poetry Marshmallow flowers Mitchell Welch This morning the veil the morning threw the yawning dark was pale-flower white and had my eyeballs in its breakfast milk. Scrawled in chalk the morning walked its affidavit back and forth across my grave. No ordinary morning the morning this morning; the morning the morning was was wet and stunk of trodden flowers. White screens overtowered our gabled house this morning to contain the vacant hours our remnant selves remained remaining in. Of all mornings this morning stands alone on its platform, hands on its head. Undead, undead, undead. Read the rest of Overland 244 If you enjoyed this piece, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four brilliant issues for a year Mitchell Welch Mitchell Welch is a writer and communications advisor from Queensland who has worked and lived in Brisbane, Melbourne, Hobart and the Gold Coast. His first book, Vehicular Man, was shortlisted for the Judith Wright Calanthe Award, and is available from Rabbit. More by Mitchell Welch › 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 18 September 202618 September 2026 · Poetry having a sweetie Gareth Morgan o unfathomable lack! unbelievable luck … really, you wouldn’t believe me my pollen grows in the dark my pollen reeks like bed sheets/br 5 November 2025 · Poetry Force posture agreement Miroslav Sandev The men of Darwin have all taken their rottweilers / out for a walk at the same time. / For our protection. Like Pine Gap: / all those big white eyes that scan / the darkening horizon. / The eyes stay woke, so that we may sleep. / Or so they say.
