Almanac Poetry: ‘Without Measure’ – Tommy Mallet
Without Measure
In this windy night I love my child without measure,
as she sleeps
after a summer’s day
at a remote surf beach,
swimming in rock pools,
and the long walk back up, through the bush.
When glaciers melt into the sea,
the beach, we, will be gone.
She will still be too young to be that 1% that survives
the collapse of us.
I’ve never loved life enough
to be terrified of death,
but, oh, oh,
I am so scared for her.
It’s not fair, it’s not.
There’s one of her, we’ve done our bit,
reduce the pool,
yet that’s simply intensified out love.
It has no limit. No limit.
None.
It has no gauge. It has no end.
These things that aren’t fair,
like life,
that we construct comforts, distractions,
to deny.
Our paper-thin houses, in the here, in the now,
in the silence of midnight; a desk,
background news reports,
all of it,
turned to water.
There will be no legacies,
for writers, builders,
parents.
Everything terrifies me,
for her,
except the moment. We have that.
Tomorrow’s is not here just yet.
I enter her room, not to hug or
wake her,
but see her, in this freeze-frame
of perfection.
And feel love claw
at flimsy walls.
You can read more poetry from Tommy Mallet HERE.
More poetry from Almanac Poetry can be read HERE
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