Avenue (Glenroy Lent #6)

What a discrepancy between
the joyful winging of birds
and the fear in men and women…

(Jean Vanier, The Broken Body)

And how one cricket starts
a neighbourhood symphony
in the grass of our roaming
near the concrete of our homing
in these streets and these footpaths
at a Friday-pink dusk

while the street in its silence
has houses and heartbeats
(through one window, hear dishes;
through another, hear Dickhead
be shouted – no reason);
and the moon in gauze sleeping
says, Here’s to a safe night,

watch over us, dusty
from the day, cool from night
watch our wandering, half-hoping,
half-asleep-on-the-job,
down these byways and laneways,
all these avenues of grace.

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