(variations on a theme of Hölderlin)
I
A god salutes us: flinging his molten gold
across the city sky, the Sustainer takes
his leave. But no one lifts his eyes, nor
heeds as that pledge to return now filters
like powdered fire silently through the noise
and rush of Melbourne’s traffic — except some youth,
perhaps, who slides a train-door open,
inwardly stirred to an ancient worship.
Poetry Atlas has a number of poems about Melbourne and a lot of poems about Australia.