She moulds her hands
over neck and shoulders
as they stand in line
for a few minutes of
a soft touch
that holds up time
and eases the mind.
Words from the Jagged Edge of Truth
She moulds her hands
over neck and shoulders
as they stand in line
for a few minutes of
a soft touch
that holds up time
and eases the mind.
They told him he had to sell his car
because it never could find its way
back to his house when he was behind the wheel;
he couldn’t see the problem with that
because the car inadvertently
introduced him to some nice people
he would not have otherwise met.
They sang and shouted
songs of adoration and declaration,
lifted their voices in proclamation
and danced to Larry norman’s
sweet, sweet song of salvation,
all of which caused the enemies of God
quite some vexation.
He wanders these neighbourhood streets
entirely alone now,
he nods to all the strangers
he once knew,
back when he knew
who he was himself.
Since they took away his drivers licence
he has nowhere to go,
no hope of ever driving
the familiar highway
of promise and solitude,
no escape from the
incessant demands
of domestic insanity.
They told him he had to sell his car
because it never could find its way
back to his house when he was behind the wheel;
he couldn’t see the problem with that
because the car inadvertently
introduced him to some nice people
he would not have otherwise met.
Through the lattice of the leaves
Hanging from the evening trees
Came the silent voice of solitude
Came the distant murmur of love
And the dusk it fell upon us
Hung there upon our breath
And we trawled the isles of the North Sea
And spoke their stories thereof.
He is laying on his back
in a mown field of grass
he is looking up at a drone
looking down on him back
he has this urge to laugh
he thinks he is alone.
They sang and shouted
songs of adoration and declaration,
lifted their voices in proclamation
and danced to Larry Norman’s
sweet, sweet song of salvation,
all of which caused the enemies of God
quite some vexation.
High in the pohutukawa tree,
the kereru, the fat wood pigeon,
perches above the old forest remnant
that once stretched as far as the eyes could see,
and hums a sad song.