Te Anau Epiphany
on boulders, just a phrase's intimately hollowed-out inside,
of some inexhaustible completeness, without poise, perfect,
There is no need for rain, river, the sap and rocked forest;
The boat cracks open a doubling swell, the broken hills
which has no meaning save as John's grunting reverence.
of humanity given over to prayer, there is no final centre
as surely as John, each shoulder hooked like a buckle
resumes in his theology of cameo appearances; a stone
transforming ugly beauty into meaningless significance,
more than this shattered light, rising through the drizzle
On the east side, farms wear into the scrub like a mange
the merciless slap of the lake has no significant rhythm.
|© Copyright 2003 Richard Reeve & Trout.
|This issue of Trout is sponsored in part by UNESCO.