New Poetry by Benjamin Dodds

My Sky

Sometimes at 3 in the morning
there’s nothing I wouldn’t give
to see an ovoid capsule

settle with an almost inaudible thrum
on Downstairs Lisa’s immaculate lawn
just below the bedroom window

of my first storey Petersham flat.

When I’m in that mood
I’d even settle for a did-or-didn’t-it-happen

flickering-out of my private patch of stars
that might have been caused
by the silently passing magnetic swell

of something slow and immense across the sky

but it’s only the knowledge
that this will never happen

that lets me enter the sleep
of these uneventful nights.

- Benjamin Dodds 2011