Sport 33: Spring 2005
'You are a bird in a storm, let it storm'
for Olga Fairhall
Not far from the beach and the big groaning pines, the wind
through the open window in the dark
swells in the tops of the willows
and sighs, that is the sound of the leaves,
swelling and sighing in the wind.
From my bed I can see the stars,
the dark lifted by the moon.
The swelling and sighing will break in time
as if the heart of the world had broken open
and from somewhere in that deep dark comes a river
rushing, people streaming to the banks, waving, yelling
in jubilation at the uprooted trees, the floating houses,
all lights in a storm on, all livestock safe.
The tragedy been and gone, they are waking
to the wonder of the stories of their lives.