PAUSE

by Genevieve Osborne

Deep in the southy night when the soft edged feathers

of owls carry them yellow eyed and silent

when the sharp edged moon stencils

hill tops and headlands

the long grasses plait themselves into braids

and answer the tracks of the stars

the waves slow and clamber up each other’s backs

to peer across the land

creeks wander off into towns and corn stubble

wetting the lamplight and causing sheep

to lift and shake their feet

and in the forests, in the time left before the owls return

the trees bend, stretch out their great limbs

and rest.