the wind gallops from the hills

so that the trees in its path bow at the waist;

it is eternal supplication



the river runs cold in a gut and hugs a hill

from which the bush comes down to drink,

and it dips into water so clean it runs like oil



there is a stout house of a low terrace, its windows

pressed to the view, and tussocks roll in the wind,

and people listen and watch and think:

this is fine place, with wind and water and

views to damn the eyes

3 thoughts on “Here

  1. And the water so clean it runs like olive oil hydraulic fluid or something which has a different living presence then the common and tampered with tap water

  2. Beautiful, John, I’m in the south again carried by your verse. Those ‘views to damn the eyes’ says it well. Loved the trees bending ‘at the waist’.

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