I hope they weren’t shy

I hope they weren’t shy those teens taken on the dusty Red Cliffs road from behind; I hope they’d just been secreted in the vines and had unbuttoned tops and teased the budded nipples there and tasted wine. I hope they had their senses filled with life in eighteenth birthday marquees before this dark evening when the road pulled them like night butterflies to shimmer in blind groups where no one should have been. There are no words to speak of the driver whose own poor children sat uncomprehending in their car seats and watched the teenagers, themselves still children, die. The death of children, those dead and those dying living on is the death of everything. The world grows cold at this and cracks and no balm will ever bring it back. I have no thought for him but of the teens I wonder did they taste it all in those mad years when their bodies sprouted hairs? I hope they stood on the roofs of cars yelling and pointing with lifted shirts and believed they were invincible. I hope they fell in love like madmen in the Mildura sun and swam the Murray when they should have been at school or snuck out and drove some old HQ paddock bomb all night and threw their empty stubbies at the star spanked sky.


7 thoughts on “I hope they weren’t shy

    1. No. I’m just dabbling intuitively. I have studied professional writing and editing with focus mainly on short story and novel. Prose poetry is an interesting form; I love playing with mood and rhythm…

      1. Dabbling intuitively is my technique too so far. I am hoping to get on a Masters course next year with limited spaces – I like the idea of doing doing a series of prose poems – I’m meeting the course professor in a couple of weeks and I am going to run the idea past him. I would like the theme to be either ‘full time dad’ or maybe ‘domestic violence’.
        I always think prose poems are like nuggets.

  1. Hey Phil, thanks for your comment on my blog! I love prose poetry – like little punches or presents, depending I guess. Like padron peppers, if you’ve ever eaten them.

    This piece was so poignant! I look forward to reading more.

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