The hushed dark hugs the streets.
Somewhere a cat snaps the silence.
Dogs begin to bark, like a pack
moving in for the kill.
Women shrink in their homes.
Shadows slip
through the night and
stars dim their lights
as cars flash past.
When they disappear,
silence, heavy as hate, descends.
Hours stretch like elastic
that finally snaps.
Dawn spreads its stain
over the sky.
Seven years later
young women walk again
through lonely streets.
Screams taunt only those
who remember.
*first published Northern Perspective Vol 17 no 2 1994
This poem was included as part of the exhibition in memory of Anita Cobby held at Q theatre in Penrith 2003
