On the way home, Clare Valley, 6:30am
A gauze stocking is stretched across the sky keeping out colour In my car I fly through clouds descended to earth Trees and other apparitions appear then recede I view the world through a grey filter a smudge on my glasses Vines cover the hills like cornrow braids on a scalp The sun rips a hole in the sky and paints its first shadow.
I used to have imagination but one day (about July first I think) it packed its bags and went in search of a beach to lie on, a sandy retreat from which to admire the crashing surf and gentle wash of brine on saturated shore. Perhaps to find itself, rediscover its zest, in the intricate, infinite mysteries and patterns of detritus: seaweed balls, foam necklaces and jellyfish. One day it will return to me, refreshed recharged and reignited, lithe and supple able to leap tall tropes and twist words into beautiful, interesting thoughts. I hope.
Russ Talbot was one of Poet’s Corner’s original contributors in its ‘Independent Weekly’ print days. He discovered the pleasure and therapy of writing, after his life changed due to Acquired Brain Injury as the result of a brain tumour. Russ says he has had two lives: one prior to ABI, and one afterwards. In the first he obtained degrees in computing and management, and in the second a Bachelor of Arts in Creative Communication. He is a member of the Adelaide Poetica poetry group, has published individual poems in Australia and the UK, and last year the chapbook collection ‘Things That Make Your Heart Beat’ through the Ginninderra Press Picaro Poets series. His book of prose ‘Just A Bit Wobbly’, will be published by Ginninderra later this year.