Thursday, January 14, 2010

It's past rabbit season

Every day is summer [speaking of seasons], sunshine
dries the sand between cracked cobbles, cooks
the skinks' skin as they lay lazily on garden mulch.
Much remains the same - shadows disappear
at midday, rats feed on blown flax seeds
and the grass gradually grows, although always slowly now,
until it too is taught to conform.

Behind the bright, seeps a river of doubt
maybe it'll be okay now, maybe
there's no need to make drastic changes, maybe
I won't have to do anything
and it will all sort itself out in the wash.
Yeah right. Before the tuis are gone,

before the nip in the air warns of autumn's approach,
before the river becomes a torrent, uncontrolled
and unguided, that beckoning bootprint-logged path
overgrown with punga ferns and cabbage whites,
will have to be walked.

1 comment:

Sailor said...

nice mood :)