The Finder’s Library

A kennings poem for Bellevue Hill Public School

When we listen we begin to see.

When we see, silence starts to sing.

Don’t be scared,

no need to breathe.

welcome to the Library.

Come closer, look – this passage leads

to a buried museum.

Down here we keep

the inventory.

Cartographers of sorts, mapping

neon squid and rare species.

Ready, set, follow me.

We call this Winter’s Room

a green-grey cave

where the light won’t go.

And here’s The Graveyard, a garden

of barnacle and bone.

Over there’s the reef,

razorshells and plastic reeds.

Pirate shrines and rusted TVs,

a beguiling collection

of knots and nets. Now let’s 

navigate the shelves,

meet the molluscs and red coral.

Beware of plug-holes

and puffer fish.

It’s dangerous in these depths.

Hush,

the snap jaws are sleeping.

Move slowly, their eyes

are still open. They won’t

take kindly to being woken. 

Ahead and to the left,

our tour ends.

Thank you for exploring,

drop anchors, dry those feet,

swap your flippers for shoes.

Don’t be scared,

remember to breathe.

Time for farewells,

Goodbye from

the Library.