darkness under lights

You can’t write that -
how lightbulbs burn 
dimmer than autumn leaves
in the bright afternoon sun.

You can’t write
how that big ute
with its hatred of 
cyclists makes you sad.

Your toes clench
at the sight of 
swastikas on the sign
outside the Islamic 

School.  You can’t tell
the person who did 
it how your intestines
shrivelled to sultanas

under the weight
of their intent. 
You can’t say 
how you wish the world

would be. Cherishing
the planet the way
you pat your dog’s ears.
You’re ruminating

on shopping trolleys
awash with plastic
bags and the man 
with the bush house 

who says “we don’t 
like wombats”.  We
all mow our own 
fields so you just sit 

waiting with your
protest signs tucked
beside the driver’s door.  
And still the lights are on.

12 thoughts on “darkness under lights

  1. I believe your poetry is getting clearer, more illuminated; this one shines; I love the refrain and the sadness it evokes but then! that wonderful analogy of cherishing the planet as we do our pets; it ends as it begins : in Hope —

    Liked by 2 people

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