Sport 35: Winter 2007
1
1
the river map
shows houses
bridges and moorings
of disproportionate size
suggesting fish
it'd take more
than a pickaxe head
and fencing wire to land
some houses
abandoned a generation
shelter vines and weeds
before collapsing
in their rooms
and passages
time's minutiae
are mutely sifted
a single stone
honed by the river
is carried up
to be carved with a name
but rain and wind
work names
back into stone
and occlude them
blind as the feral moon
the stone glides
under water
out of memory
hills cut to mist
at a certain height
another light
and water border
hitch hikers
huddle in the shelter
happy to go either way
as long as it's gone
pants cuffs boot soles
stuck with mud
that dries to silt
finer than sand
those who've travelled
all this way
to see Jesus
usually bring him with them
everyone admires
a god
whose death
feeds his people
manuhiritanga
the most ancient
binding custom
we drank rain