November 2017

after pissing
on the trumperor's parade
so much water under the bridge

why fuss so, cicada?
my imago must be
four times yours

her lavalava
colours Sale'aula's field —
the lingering heat

cow cockies spark off
each other

her earth mound
new for only a day
or two

epitaph granite faced to the end

still water
the night heavy
over itself

extinct shadows
re-enact the thrill
of the hunt

in shadows
my search for words
to be ignored

open grave doubts about life

wide-eyed world woven with webbing

light to read the directions of mist by

a sign where the circle ends

dry creek bed
face to face with
my extinction

from nowhere
a wave overshadows
the last rock-pool

merciful wind —
bruised reeds are unbroken
and flax flower

core alone on the tundra

all at once
some pumice bobs up
from the past

in the east
ranges croak up

rainbow warrior —
a zodiac boat prowls
through the stars