Mostly it waits inside, nestled with the apparel, padded hangers,
the docile leather and lace of old shoes.
From time to time it glimpses a silverfish,
possessing its own reserve of metallic silence—
before the alien glint is gone.
It is looked in on, now and then.
Each time, it opens itself to the day like a child,
humbled by the lavish blessings of sun.
Lately it has noticed small changes, corruptions, blemishes—
strangely hard to define.
The dimness is restored.
Perhaps it is not proper, after all, to reflect on such things.
On the top shelf is a ziggurat of photo albums,
each volume preserved by thick plastic.
Under the cloth of night, its visions suddenly become claustrophobic.
Maria Takolander’s poetry has been widely published and anthologised, and her last collection, The End of the World (Giramondo 2014), was widely reviewed and praised, including in the Los Angeles Review of Books. She is an Associate Professor in Writing and Literature at Deakin University in Geelong, Victoria.