Poem — Mary Macpherson

Chiaroscuro

(for Terry)

 

It’s clear how quickly
darkness swims up the gums –

there’s light and shadow, then
the silver trunks and tossed heads

are gone. Bats call
in darkness. I’ve seen this

in Auckland too – a city with
space for trees – walking by

an angled building, I looked
into black branches scribbled

on blackness, nearly invisible.
Like you, I notice when

one’s gone, check the time
when darkness comes –

a gap in the line of gums
and the slow turn of light.

 

Mary Macpherson

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