New Poetry by Greg McLaren

Oranges

for Frances Odette


Frankie demands fruit she can’t reach.

We spring it to earth, where it’s hidden, sun-warm,

in laundry.

                 Leaves appear on the kitchen floor.

She looks to the flowers,            

white and yellow, and to me, and points – 

star!      flower!

                        The blossom in my fingers            

smells of orange, or is it

that my fingers now

                                 smell of orange?

She lifts her body, nose-first as if weightless,

to the half-crushed blooms, eyes closed, and sniffs – 

                       I love 

and fear everything. 



- Greg McLaren 2015

A short bio: Greg McLaren is a Sydney-based poet, critic and teacher. His recent books are After Han Shan (Flying Islands, 2012) and The Kurri Kurri Book of the Dead (Puncher & Wattmann, 2007).  A new collection, Australian ravens, is forthcoming with Puncher & Wattmann in 2015.