This photo see
Pushed back, far back as it can go...

Hovering featherless over Blandswood
Pere Punga...

My heart, not merely a tempestuous thing
Nor inarticulate of rhythm...

The earth bellows in pain
Boulders, dust, rock, billowing upwards...

Plasma, genes, mitochondria
Revolving, circling calcium and carbon...

Down Colac
Runs this red gravel track...

Cradled within his weary arms
Her crumpled bones askew...

Belting down Arundel road in Mid Canterbury
Lined with macrocarpa hedges, sheep and dry...

A closed door will only ever reflect
Forlorn light shining upon peeling paint...

The seat belt that restrains
Is of my constraint...

Fingers twist, bruise my lips
Perusing the ambivalent flat screen...

Closing my eye's, I see her
A tranquil vision...