shift. A poem by Irene Watson

and as the breathing slows
it observes the moonlight
casting past the lacuna
a salve of linen shades

yet battening down
it spins again

feral delights now beholden
to a bare-knuckled cache
this visitor’s theft of quietened blues
moves to halt
the rain drizzle of condolence

a censorious cuckoo shifts
the treetop breeze
of the chandelier hung
unlit house
of dusted
teardrop crystal


Irene Watson is a mid career fine artist, poet, writer, lecturer and teacher. She currently works on her writing and artwork full time and her work can be seen here.

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