A contemporary poem about a line between brightness, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
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The bright side of the street was not kinder. It simply showed the damage sooner. Across the road, shade gathered its witnesses. I drew a line with the heel of my shoe. A child stepped over it, then another. The morning lost its argument and became a place we could share.
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Quiet is not absence but a measurable presence that changes according to distance, attention and care.
A distant figure remains self-contained, carrying an atmosphere the observer cannot own or interpret.
A contemporary poem about after the colour breaks, using a concrete image system, a pressured turn and a restrained open ending.
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