Academic journal article Antipodes

The Bone Buried

Academic journal article Antipodes

The Bone Buried

Article excerpt

My father was cross when I lost a hairbrush at the pool.

A Mason Pearson one, expensive and English.

It was my fault, an impulsive grab from aqua-zipped

swimming bag to smuggle into the water-

I played at puppies fetching a bristled "bone."

Oval plastic handle ogled into my mouth

along with a gulp of tepid chlorine.

A friend arrived; dog-distracted I missed

the minute where brush drifted gently to edge

clacked against the concrete twice, maybe three

and vanished clockwise into the system.

The bone buried, unable to be sniffed out.

"Your mother will be angry when we get home."

My mother who was never angry, not really.

In my after bath, I lifted water to my lips and waited,

so heavy and hating the weight. …

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