Tristan da Cunha

          tristan da cunha*

I.
might have been home
the place i was born
yet it always
felt unlikely
that i should be born
there out where
the ocean cannot
hide from itself
just a sky of it
dawn to
evening ragged

regret

 

      regret

from the war
memorial up on
the hill on such a
morning you
look out on
the sea oiled
in summer sky
the islands damp
with tree shadow

gilded

gilded
for Keikei
2016, edited april 2022
riverside

‘too heady even for the sun’… a Weathercat in-time nap cat snap

better
than any
other sun,
to track the
sky to its
final edge
and know
the blessing
of having
been,
that
setting sun,
the drink
to be drunk
dry,
fire that
burns now
the day
to ash.
a kiss
this late