blackbird lady

blackbird lady
to a favourite NZ artist, Susannah MacDonald

this lady
i know,
have never met,
she paints the
things that come
where your dreams
leave off
giant
conical shells of the
family volutidae
large as touch in
the brain
the wrapt cape and spindle
of their form decayed
the growing mouths
of shadow drifting
with cumuli above
a sea of island and
blue reflection,
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autumn lengths

autumn lengths

I.
leaves  of   the plane  tr e e
caught  in the  sprung  head  of  this  year’s
branch
r a i s e   one   against  the other   a dry voice
like  animals  who have
outlived  their
dying
would  kneel  downwind
to  the  earth.

II.
the  hill   harvests   the sun  at  evening  /  all
the  burst  grain   of   light
piled   against  already   cold
fallings   away.
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