Melanie, I Remember

by abracadabra   Aug 4, 2011

Melly, was that you at Blythe St this morning
when the tram grated and showered sparks into the sky?
I swear I felt one land on me, blonde and warm.
I was at our corner stop, eating danishes from Filou's,
the ones that gave us sugary moustaches
and the old ladies something to stare at.

Last night was the warmest one we've had in August. Was that you?
In those clammy nights long ago, stuffed in our backyard tents
after torch-lit stories of the Frankston Strangler and Cut-Throat Jack,
tossing in my sleeping bag, I'd finally touch your face
in the dark, your two front teeth
beneath my fingertips,
square and solid.

The brook always laughs louder when I come near.
Are you happy to see me? We never did catch any fish
but they know our stories. They know which teachers we liked,
they know calculus and Sonya Hartnett's books,
they know how scared you were.

We'd cry, sometimes.
Sometimes, there's a red leaf on my window sill,
glowing and fading with the morning light.
Piles of them on the way to school, you'd kick, I'd jump,
we'd spin. We'd vow to roadtrip to Uluru in winter.
Was that your red desert dust still clinging to my skin,
under my nails, in my hair when I returned?
I washed it, it turned to blood.

There was a silence today in the park. I walked home
and there was no one, not even a possum. The leaves were still,
the cars were still.

Against the sunset, a bird started singing.
Was that you, Mel? Was that you?


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Latest Comments

  • 1 month ago

    by Yakari Gabriel


  • 4 months ago

    by Yakari Gabriel


  • 7 months ago

    by Yakari Gabriel


  • 8 months ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    <3 <3

    "I washed it, it turned to blood"

    be still my heart.

  • 1 year ago

    by silvershoes

    I don't know how I missed this poem years ago, but have to admit I'm happy Yaki's affection for it drew me here tonight. I don't know what it is exactly that you've captured here, Abby, but it has me all torn up. Did you know something about Melanie that you weren't supposed to know or you weren't allowed to tell? Did you lose her to an underling darkness, like the shadow in this poem? It's funny, there's clearly happiness and nostalgia, but something heartbreakingly sad strewn throughout... like the sorrow is seeping through cracks. Lines of blood running through colorful memories.
    I don't know. You captured something special. Another way I read this is two little girls falling in love.. I'm curious to know Yaki's take.