Sunday, March 27, 2011

March 18 - Moon

My damp spirit awakes
all glands and membranes
alert, battling pathogens

and this light seeps cruelly
through a gap in curtains
my defences breached

I turn, toss, think, think
I'm not asleep. Why not?
What time is it? I'm too hot.

Later, it is 4am, the sky deep
in darkness, black not grey
(I twitch the curtain for certainty)

and like a memory of night's
moonlight pattering across
my mind, a possum scampers

along the verandah roof
so lightly! That dance of life!
Light can be unnecessary

darkness a playground. I rise
make a cup of chamomile tea,
tread time in lamp's yellow pool.

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