LOCAL
POETRY

Julia McKenzie

New territories

A bronze shadow slides through whispered grass
I glance and catch a glimpse, a hairs breadth,
A shredded trace slips beneath me
Under my feet a cough, a whine, a blur
I know some things, this way stir.

Two worlds, above and beneath
Through slatted steps, the den is slow revealed
Deep earthen forms with milk blue eyes
They do not see me; I form an outer edge of things
I draw and cut; they wait
Her absence felt through a murmuration of radio waves

Mother, deep red with poise
With magpie like hunger she scours the hood
She runs the risk of road struck end
To bring prey in silver foil or plastic bag.
They greet and suckle amongst my briar and nettle

Bold and brasslike they roll, scrape, nip and pounce
I watch so near via huge divide
Soon they will melt into rusted echoes
And slip through the cracks of urban ways
By night and day-new territories.