Month: July 2019

The cold wind,
as sharp as a razor,
freezes the tears
in our glass eyes
and cuts a line of red
through our embrace.

Over the road
on that unclaimed piece of land
in Maungaturoto
beside the railway line,
a fire casts dancing shadows
that occupy
the warm spaces.

The harbour lies like silver
in the deepening shadows
of the twilight,
the crescent moon
is narrow, dancing
on the cold waters
while you are a long way
from here, in a warm place
on your birthday;
I sing you a quiet song.

You no longer require my services.
After ten years of working together
you send me an email that erases
any value our relationship had.
We shook hands back then remember?

There is violence
in the fist of anger,
there is a tear
in the eye of the refugee
grief rends the heart
of the powerless;
we are still arriving.

There is hunger
in the belly of the child,
bullets in the flesh
of the soldier,
the homeless
shiver in the cold;
we have not arrived

Today, like every other day,
passed in the necessary things
that gave no time
to the horizon
or to a quiet thought
on the edge of a winter sea.

As they honoured him
for his fine work
on the eve of Matariki,
he said it felt like
it was just the beginning;
like all things
were just the beginning.

Let the harbour
at the bottom
of my garden
speak joy
in the safe refuge
it brings to my dreams.

Takes the sunlight
keeps it for itself
throws it in long shadows
that don’t quite reach my door.