1924
The lamp-post is tall ..
a metal aesthete
straight as a needle
a long lean shadow
Is cast on the street
Two walk the line
moving yet fixed
the dark and ethereal
Never will meet...
Fixed forever a statue in black.
The umbra unfolds
like a wave from the night
on the left.
It carries the walking
left foot and right
The rattle of trams
Standing hushed in their sleep.
And each has a shadow..
Not one is alone
Each has a shadow...their own.
Ionic columns ironically placed
This House of Parliament
Is lost and forlorn
Colonial cars empty and still
The Republic is young
And not yet fulfilled.
Kristine Byrne 21 Feb. 2014