Showing posts with label over the fence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label over the fence. Show all posts

over the fence


the bush
wasn’t filled with dragons,
knights, princesses
or giants.

matter-of-factly empty
& nothing else.

a creek
with big dark eels,
but no taniwha I remember
(or ones I could write about
now).

just gorse
moving up the hill,
puriri trees, rotting leaves,
a graveyard, at least
far enough away

so that to get there
was an adventure.



Published in Takahe 73, Winter 2011.
Read by Sam Hunt on Kiwi FM, 11 September 2009.