Full-circle back

You’ve come full-circle back, lost dog sniffing old scents still hiding in windblown leaves or concealed in straggly kikuyu. I saw you sans headdress by the sea in bad jeans and remembered how madness once gave birth to a child not much bigger than a bird, beak open in hope against the heat. Then, I hit golf balls onto a floating green hoping to win a car (having travelled so far from any sensible thing.) I remember you getting off a bus in your blue dress with things still possible, standing in the crater at Maungawhau feeling the rocks for a line to the earth’s core. So many moments wait to flare and find oblivion. So many moments and this is what you choose: skulking like a thief at water’s edge dragging a calamitous tail – the wreck of the Hesperus, all manner of flotsam and jetsam, a fledgling you tied to the mast with lies and clever, silver wires, his wings spread so uselessly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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