undergrowth
at dusk the birds by the road
are loud as a fire so much noise
from such small lungs
we say
it seems impossible but what’s worse is
we should be able to hear this anywhere
the branches
always ripe with nests
in spring
birdsong so big
we could almost dance to it
but the next day
we’re overheating in the park
& everyone’s too busy worrying
to notice our spot under the trees
I’m imagining a giant ballroom with
this leafy canopy for a roof
the floor a pool of cool green light
nobody’s been here for centuries &
most of the birds are gone too
but an ant crawls
across the cracked marble
& somewhere in the silence our buried
forms turning
back into earth are still
in love
& the flowers pick themselves
up & carry on
Ash Davida Jane
Ash Davida Jane is a poet and bookseller from Te Whanganui-a-Tara. She has a Master of Arts from the International Institute of Modern Letters. Some of her recent work can be found in Peach Mag, Turbine | Kapohau, Best New Zealand Poems, and Scum. How to Live with Mammals is due to be published by Victoria University Press in 2021.
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