Poems: Hyacinth and The Caterpillar

Hyacinth

I taste you in my mouth,

hear old utterings

that seeped from soil

and your bold raceme

of urgent blue/purple –

now dried petals plus

spent spatulates spot

windowsills, floorboards ‒

the air is thick

the season short

yet you linger

having departed

months ago –

The Caterpillar

for Scarlett

Under yellow globules

of lunar light the caterpillar

slowly spins silk – knit to fit,

sew to grow ‒ a cocoon. The Moon,

her mentor, partially obscured

by cirrus vapor, goads with

ancient spells – going deeper,

ever deeper to truly know –

when she, the Moth emerges,

where to seek the flame.

Peter Roberts has been published in a range of national and international journals, most recently W-Poesis, Catchment and The Beatnik Cowboy. As currently Poet-in-Residence at the Louis Joel Arts Centre in Hobson Bay, West Melbourne, among other things he produces a monthly podcast titled the Louis Joel Poetry Pod, released on each full moon on Spotify. Today’s poems are from his work-in-progress collection, West.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.