Passing Through
By Jennifer Chance
Clouds capture
the movement of our bodies
a quick, simple flash and then a dance
with crawling police cars
and death happens,
lone people in masks wrapping fingers
into a long-forgotten prayer
The world opens and closes
like an unbearable child
with an unbearable wish
Yesterday a few ducks passed me by at the Yarra
and they were free, dunking
their heads in the water,
sliding in and out of the bank
and the river for them
was just a reflection of the sky
and therefore endless,
therefore eternal.
It felt like a dream.
The sun on the trees becomes a door becomes a
face
we watch the autumn
paint shrivelled leaves
The Melbourne sky has always dazzled
by how quickly it moves
how fast the day forgets its light
That night I sit by Birrarung Marr
the Wurundjeri’s river of mists
and watch
a man slide a mask over his daughter’s
smile.
This poem was inspired by a visit to the Yarra River during the lockdown, where I noticed how peaceful everything was. How the world could come crashing but the river would go on.