You would wait in that dark room
for the dawn to create geometric shapes.
You would wait for each square, rectangle,
to mould a door, a wardrobe, a chair.
You would wait for the chest-of-drawers
to colour cream with brass handles.
You would wait for a silhouette to fashion
a lamp with a gold fringe; a book alongside.
You would wait for curtains to flower lilac,
for light to seep through linen weave.
You would wait for a chink to streak
down a mirror; a hairbrush would appear.
You would wait for furry caterpillars to flow
as wavy blue lines of candlewick bedspread.
You would stretch out your legs;
soft toys at the foot of the bed would shuffle.
You would wait for first voices in the house.
Carolyn Abbs (Western Australia)