Local Antarctica - Deloris

Shifting sheets of butterscotch sky

Became the night

We looked down on ocean lights

That sat like a lacquer on the tide

Of chandelier

Sunk down in the waters round our town

Lay down in Oliver’s Hill

Above the boat lined roads

Rung with playing cards in spokes

We lit the grass and heard tales of letterbox thieves

Revenge writ in paperbark trees

We held like statues we hoped like kids

Of all the sweet things that we saw we did

Winding little lights round the backs of our heads

For following the driveway grass

Under stars of pale cold tin

One century passed

To leave only clues and hints of local Antarctica

Whole complete secret flowing inches from our feet

You’d tap the glass surface

Of the lake with your shoes

I know cause I sat and did it too

And though we said our promise was to leave

We never shared if we might even want the other there

We talked like actors we spoke like kings

About the cheap things that we thought we did

Never letting on that the ringing for the end

Was in the doorbells of our friends