My childhood home.I returned this month for several weeks to my roots in the deep north of Aotearoa / New Zealand visiting childhood memories and re-establishing contact with relatives I have not seen for over forty years.

 

 

 

 


sanctuary light
my shadow settles back
into itself
noumenal night . . .
a new moon obsesses
all over me
grave matter –
echoes of Prague
thunder by
Bastille Day –
a storm front blasts in
from Antarctica
changeling child
true blood of my blood
full of night
all at sea
a wind-tossed path
laid bare
gathering storm
we birds keep singing
until we wake
the silence
before and after
this silence
each breath
left justified
in the air
frost-fresh
the air still to be
breathed into
filtered light –
yes! I can hardly bear
this world's beauty
clouds there
moon-gouged into
the night
watch vague images
weave the act of creation
from a formless fog . . .
she died
eels slipping through 
a grasp
of words 
in this 'now'
tourists tailgating
wind's cortege
you are here 
where light 
ends
listening
into word-
lessness
in being 
these words 
with your voice
are my flesh
in so few
words dance beyond 
the horizon
mimicking the master
the monkey 
in his mind
moonlit chill –
rock-pocked reflection
of spent passion
unbroken grey
every nook and cranny
lost to me
on window fog
I trace the physiognomy
of darkness
dusk-light still
everything in flow
and ever-go
manuka bush
air rattles scent-rich
in night's becoming
dead low water
and then my genome
pulls me back
in luca
the dying light
of an acronym
winter rain –
as flies to wanton boys
a monarch's fall
look at me!
feel me put my words
in your mouth
awake before dawn
a distant gull verifies
that I'm still here