Winter colours, out of air, arrive
out of Autumn colours, bronze
and orange-white. A clear
black sky, never long at zero.
Briefly, over night, the Heart
delights at quietness,
star dried. Subdued.
Winter quietness grew.
The soil softened. The growing
slows, the Mowing
-men, their trailers now
with pruning gear.
Dew, iced, dominates.
Rivers-blent spearmint
a silty watercolour
rings the risen shoreline
and the harbour,
dredged to compensate
the uplift in the quake,
a wholly unique colour
as diggers build an isthmus
deepening the water.
Like wholemeal
linguine miles of railway
iron lay twisted on the
shoreline. The baffling
lightness, linguistically—
a nonexistent weight,
if I describe it differently
than the heat is to the Iron’s heaviness
at rest on the asbestos pad.
Remove it, the 1 wood,
from the trundler—
the sweet satisfying swing
and meaty ping.
Yes, I like Mark’s comment. Ah, that ‘meaty ping’.
light strokes, Dean – light as a water- coloured landscape. You’ve a good eye, good rhythm – which you need for golf too. Not that i play. Do you?
thank you mark. After the 2016 earthquake there was much unease throughout the kaikoura community and I found myself for a few months regularly playing golf which I hadn’t done for 15 or 20 years. it grounded me again