Darkness, an aegis,
releasing small calls-
a flight of soft sounds
faltering, fragile
ru u
ru u
The hunter, alone,
summons perception-
a voice loosed to night,
it speaks and I listen
ru u
ru u
A forest, dormant
though we sit alert-
together, yet in
cloistered solitude.
E hoa, Ruru.
This poem was originally published by takahē magazine as the winner of the 2019 Monica Taylor Poetry Prize
http://www.takahe.org.nz/2019-takahe-monica-taylor-poetry-prize-results-and-judges-report/