
Graeme Miles has published three collections of poems:
Infernal Topographies (University of Western Australia Press, 2020),
Recurrence (John Leonard Press, 2012) and
Phosphorescence (Fremantle Press, 2006), as well as many pieces in journals and anthologies. His most recent book was shortlisted in the Tasmanian Literary Awards and his first for the West Australian Premier’s Prize. He has lived in Hobart since 2008 and teaches Latin and ancient Greek literatures at the University of Tasmania. His scholarly work is in ancient Greek literature (especially Greek literature of the Roman era) and philosophy (especially late-antique Platonism).
House by a still lake
in the north of France. We live
here for now, two women
and a child. A place where it’s easy
to shift subtle things – the house
is a concourse for invisible guests.
The son sees them grow vast as a world
in a nutshell of cloudy crystal.
They reach to us as their afterlife,
drawn maybe by the orange leaves
or fantastical reflections on the lake.
And when I let go of this little body
(smaller and softer than trees or mountain)
nothing keeps me anymore in place,
loose of the whole idea of up or down,
loose of the monolithic wardrobe,
glacial bulk of the bed.
Only the lake
gives a still point – around it
a giddying gyre.
In the mirror
my familiar face for the last time –
the clay was never fired, stayed free
to be remade by the slowest and cleverest hand.