On pink tongue roads,

Haze speaks

“You never laid eyes on the sea”

Or beyond powdered magic.

Where from here and behind the veil,

Only achromatic dabs of

Glint - exit light streets

Led you further from home.

Drive on,

My love.

Past rose brumous dreams

Into the stark night where reality shall prey,

On your toneless days.

An ekphrastic for Clarice Beckett’s Evening,
St Kilda Road (circa 1930)