flow

flow

flow

something
flowed in
on the flow
this morning,
fog on the in-tide,
the sky, the estuary
unseen, hung
in a mix together
of droplets
more opaque
than dream,
the call of
the gull
the needle
that stitched
its hem

you are here
you are of
here
you are in here
you are not
here

july 2019
te wai mokoia

Copyright ©2019 Peter Le Baige.  All Rights Reserved

the sense found

the sense found
for JJ Page

Gateless
Mumonkan, the barrier gate without gate

I.

in your poems
often was
a phone
ringing,
unanswered,
a phone that cut
with tin the setting
of your verse,
that might be in a
valley lush in
the twilight scent
of roses, you and
her on horses
fording the flood
of fragrant colour,
that phone rang
like a lunatic
with a bell,
a hand grenade
that might go
off when the
receiver was lifted…

when i heard you
Continue reading “the sense found”

%d bloggers like this: