Chantal Stewart

Try to catch the second when the sun changes into shadow,
lapping against river reeds, obsequious in friendliness.

Holding myself together like hands with tightly interlaced fingers
I search for the greyness of consistency between the extremes.

I am, reluctantly, the rock, the strong one
To remain in the inbetween.

I am the sunlight and the shadow
I am the leftover stubble of a bush

Popping up playful bubbles as I pass over rough patches,
I droop, cowed by age and circumstance.

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