Friday, February 08, 2013

Paintings of Place

Her world is curvaceous and undulous.
Cottages rise from the rim
and pine trees roost along the horizon.

Wild geese ghost above them on spirals of wind
like the dead departing Te Rerenga Wairua.


How it aches -
that phantom weight
of your child laying against you.

My mother,
three days before she died,
asked for a cuddle, and I,
no longer a child, refused.

Why did I care who would see
my middle-aged self
squeezed onto her hospital bed?

Such small regrets
adhere to my palms.


I know you called me to you
because you need,

but I'm so afraid to come
because I'll have to walk barefoot

across that field of broken glass
where lies the memory of my mother,

catching sparks of sunlight
as though there were never any sharpness

to slice me open.

Sugar Frosting

When she's happy
the grass glows
with lucky clovers -
all her glass is diamonds.

Today all the rats
stay in their holes.

Positive Thinking and the Law of Attraction

No matter how many times
I re-deal the cards
I can't win the game.

Success percentage is falling.

Over populated

Raspberry stamens nestle
in crumpled petals.

Roots trail and straggle
as foliage jostles

for a share
of the cloud-soaked sky.

Too many
reach for sustenance.