Anam Cara

Betrayed by Light

The first breath of morning breaks the dark enough

to let the sky out of night, it gathers up

the trust of trees that leaned with such relief

against the dark, leaves them stripped and lost

to reach ever further into the nowhere of air.

Darkly, the horizon, grown into light

holds back the swell of land astray at night.

The streams that flowed with ease from earth to dark

arrive helpless against day’s transparence.

Stones lost from pockets of night wince on grass.

With the light comes the distance that divides

the sleep of land from torrents of dream

that drive the ocean; the tribes of night at play

from the face where a life is known by day,

colours distract the rage and grief of dark.

In rooms sour with breath, lives begin to stir

soon they will emerge onto streets that wait

all night to snare them with habits of light.

Each one hurries in its own direction

filled with darkness no dawn can threaten.