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