September 2016

September marks for me the time of year I was born - the beginning of spring in Aotearoa / New Zealand.
 

 

 

 

 

 


when you were
when meaning was worded
with relics
 
a grief ago almost borne
 

in winter wind
all that’s left of me
escapes me

finger-felt
what the pine
had to teach

there and there
so near still
a mayfly’s was