Summer comes to settle its weight on the southern hemisphere.

 

 

 


 
memoirs
from an interlude
ending spring
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somewhere
in morning mist
the wordless
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new day . . .
again fingertipping
the void
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lips synch
to days adazzle
in tongue
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earth to earth
the wonder of now
on its own
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all things considered
night's stellar insouciance
brings me down to earth
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lost to light
my solitude awash
with the sea
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eye to eye
the bottom line
still there
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out of the depths
the sound of swords beaten
and war no more
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it is seen –
the shape of the cloud
when it was
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breeze-wrinkled
my creek reflection
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clear the headstone –
in time this breath also
summer clouds
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the gannet's dive
a life without language
before it's done
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what's left of me . . .
a half moon haunting clouds
took my breath away
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moonlit sea
bound to me in this ditch
of ownership
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receding tide . . .
my negative capability
left high and dry
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after rain too
the sea has no colour
of its own
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up, down
a leaf adrift
and not
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ceaseless stars . . .
no end in sight
for the pathos 
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midnight hunt . . .
every pulse pledged
to the prey
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with the moon
Kapiti out to sea
nothing else
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grave silence –
a distant fantail
barely heard
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night falls on 
                  night falling on 
            a dark sea
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with age
the deepening pallor
of the moon
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sky-opening
my eyes upon the light
an oak concealed
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breath stop
between life
and death
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still life . . .
all my colours
from dusk
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dead silence . . .
an ancestral wisdom 
in so few words
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still us –
sounds aflutter
enter the light
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awake again . . .
has dawn recreated
the am I was?
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who am I?
a waft of waves
stills my breath
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am I to be the words no more

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open hand . . .
her call curls out from
the unheard
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advent silence
speaking our language
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my heartbeat
on mesolithic time
once more
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heaven-sent . . .
vernix enfolds the word
whispered in doubt
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midsummer night
the moon hangs about
like a suicide
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oh the joy
dust from the big bang
in my lungs too
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here we drown 
consciousness-stricken
with our words
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silent night –
a divine sadness
to be borne 
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see these wounds –
God's creating word
in the flesh
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in the gap
between breath and touch
all is hush
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daughter buffalo
I too would die
to words
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deep-down dark
the burden of self
yet to die
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moon-lashed sea
no more what it seems
in stillness
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beach-combing
a child washes away
from her death
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word made flesh
the birth of silence
echoes still
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no more mind
just the ebb and flow
of a sea
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