Come and have a look
at what the widow maker’s made,
come and have a gander
where the grass grows round his legs,
summer storm’s a worry
and she’s left the children weary,
gumnut shrapnel cracking thunder and the yard
is full of trenches, makeshift drains
of broken sticks and lesser branches
where her looser limbs gave way
(gaveinbrokebonescomehome),
a grounded nest where the body rests,
the birds will sing the morning after and
the table clears to an empty bed and
the kids are late for school again and
the sky will fade to overcast,
the clouds will bulge with wanting screams
and when it does they’ll find out
what the widow maker’s made.
About the author
Callum Methven is a writer and translator living and working on unceded Wurundjeri land, in rural Victoria. His writing has appeared in Verge, Signs of Life Anthology, and most recently in Jacaranda. In 2022 he was longlisted for the Richell Prize.