talking bird

the talking bird
      to Jack Le Baige

macaw

for years
you told the story
we’d already taken
well to heart,
fed like a cat
under the table
with our imaginings.

greymouth,
the tasman dark
with rain, the swell
skittering along
the shore.
the rivermouth
could’ve been the
night you’d just
woken from.

you were running
for school
in the shower’s
edge, the drops
gaining heavier,
heavier on the
breeze, cloud
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moon fish

moon fish
for a saddened one

moon fishie

moon fish,
do not swim
in tears,
don’t wane
toward the dark,
the shore of
stranded pools,
wax toward the
ocean sun
that skims
on your eye,
the golden
ring of your
eye,
burst,
moon fish,
burst from
the sea
like
the swell
that rolls
the boat
under sail,
Continue reading “moon fish”