The mainland is rendered down
silvers and is gone.
My heart is green and raw – a pea not a heart –
front to the fire back to the wind.
The groan of stone on stone unsettles
me as I unsettle them.
A passing orca’s generator heart opens
and closes the island like a door.
Behind me green bush is a swaying glossary
I could lose myself in –
leaf bird tree feather bone
rock ponga pebble koru stone
bone-fire oil-lamp song
heart gale right whale wrong.
Lynn Davidson
