Monday's poem

Poetry is the art of the dark
- Diane Brown

Poetry is the art of the dark

Loss and loneliness frequent whines
Happiness leaves no permanent mark.

To others, my life is a walk in the park
Surrounded by friends, and a love that binds
All very well, but poetry is the art of the dark.

At sixty, inclined to sing like a lark
Of a home replete with food and wine
I'm told happiness leaves no permanent mark.

Fortune no blessing for the poetry arc
Betrayal or death more fruitful mines
Remember, poetry is the art of the dark.

Wittiness might make readers spark
But critics demand high-minded lines
Happiness leaves no permanent mark.

I've had for sure, my share of sharks
It's time to bask beneath the vines
But hush now; poetry is the art of the dark
Happiness leaves no permanent mark.

Diane Brown is a Dunedin writer and creative writing tutor, whose work has been nominated and a prize winner in the Montana New Zealand Book Awards. Her most recent publication is Here Comes Another Vital Moment (Auckland: Godwit, 2006).


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