I want to know
what wants to come through you,
what lies waiting?
Today the world is too big
and me, too small in it.
The people, too many,
the problems, too complex…
This morning I
walked in the rain, bleary eyed,
startled a feeding hawk
tore the palm of my hand…
Go early.
Flush blackbirds from hedges,
let the cat find warm trails
of hedgehog, pukeko,
quail…
It's possible that it's actually a failed attempt at a nest. It's hard to see how it could have held a single bird, let alone a clutch. Maybe it was a first attempt, a training ground. Maybe it was unfinished…
Read MoreThis is not a nothing day.
The pines are whistling,
cypress trunks squeaking in the wind,
cicadas have started to sing…
No feather will fall in quite the same way;
not in this spot, from that height,
to be caught between two heads of rye…
In this space
between earth and sky,
the here and almost-not,
what moves you?
What will you come apart for?
The shutter opens by degrees,
the thin film peels away
one quarter inch at a time
as it has been doing,
as you have been doing
even as you swear you cannot…
Something was out of place. The pinecones changed into ears, and a nose. This was a stag, and it was looking right at me…
Read MoreI love your broken edge,
the way you spill into the sea;
with your stalwart cliffs eroding,
you are beautiful…
A life stripped of riches,
a self swept aside for sameness,
barely holds together…
She was silhouetted against the darkening sky. Her legs hung loosely below her; thick, puffed things that make me think of bloomers, with thin bony shins and feet. I could even glimpse her talons…
Read MoreMaybe magpies aren’t thugs at all. They collect shiny things, which is an aesthetic I can appreciate. Maybe they are just waiting for me to soften…
Read MoreWhen the wind blows, grass and flowerheads undulate like waves on the sea. The whole thing has a lumpy appearance. I am a giant marching over hills and valleys in my oversized boots…
Read MoreI don’t know,
is what we say
when we do but we’re scared, or
we've stopped listening to ourselves…
We are all ephemera,
all essential,
on this land and of it…