Oisín Breen: The Darkness We Don’t Know
Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/ZlJ70xq0pO8) 16.1.2022. The River and its Reeds We stook the burden of ourselves By hand, even though we are blind, And the land, black stone, And the air hard, Heavy with thirst. Yet there exists a vapour, A bassline, trembling, As thick weaves of smoke flower On the horizon, here, Where the darkness we don’t know Is somehow nearer, Where there is always more to do, And where the gummy top notes Of our emotions bend, O