HANNAH MCCANN

Postcard

I left letters unwritten for years. Swimming
every week for hours, to uncloud, back and forth

breaking through the sharp pool surface
skimming like a stone skipping backward

like children’s boats gliding on the fountain pond
that day in the Jardin de Luxembourg

where long stems spring from plush beds
lovers kiss in the distance as fleeting shadows

pigeons dot the gravel and puff rou-rou, necks gleam
with the pink of shells, strut past you, sitting there

on the green metal seat, carved with words
you understand, hell is all in this word: solitude

silk drape buildings glow as Musèe nudes
black eyed windows cut crisp as paper models

the clock rings quarter hour, a man puffs smoke
sky stuck like paint, rapid and broken

you are watching me take notes, future letters –
a brushstroke of lone cloud – waiting for me to turn

Hannah McCann is a writer and scholar based in Melbourne, Australia. When she is not writing and teaching on gender, sexuality, and identity, she is making poems. She has published work in Meniscus Literary Journal, Westerly Magazine, DUST, Southword, Verge, and elsewhere.