There, but for the grace of a stranger

it is the thing about suffering
the excuses of a friend’s gobbling

cheeks full with unknown currency

over the ankles in sand
this slow thaw to conscience

weathered, open to sky

every now and then
while dragging knees toward it

a glance of redeemed sunshine

clapping foreign discourse
where every shadow is anonymous

identical to the core

how our hearts chambers push
this sticky throbbing mess

tangential of one another

our abandoned other selves
arm out, waiting for the baton

James Walton is an Australian poet published in newspapers, and many journals, and anthologies. Short listed twice for the ACU National Literature Prize, a double prize winner in the MPU International Poetry Prize, Specially Commended in The Welsh Poetry Competition – his collection ‘The Leviathan’s Apprentice’ was published in 2015.James Walton was a lot of things. A librarian, a farm labourer, a cattle breeder, and mostly a public sector union organizer. He is published in many anthologies, journals, and newspapers. He is now invisible in his seventh decade.