A poem: ‘Melbourne Museum’

Almost bare, usually bustling

At my back the gum, grand witness to invasion, gentrification

Qigong music floats across the plaza, a man and a woman move in harmony, a metre and a half apart

The museum’s forecourt is a skater’s dream: brrrrrrmmm, Ke-choo

In their foreground, a fitness coach sets up drills for clients, sprints between red, blue, yellow, green, and mounts hurdles to reach them; with force he exhales in time with each knee lift, each side-step: schoo, schoo, schoo, schoo

To my left, a girl all pink and yellow and glee scoots past, her father, sipping from a thermos, strolls in her wake

To my right, a woman in green guides a man in white through a tai chi-like routine, but with more squatting

The wind is icy from the south, my fingers tapping on the screen stiffen, purple

by Desanka Vukelich