An Oyster Catcher
And down by the sea
I watch you watch the birds
Never no more to hold you
In a black lost space
Waiting for the fever
And down in the creviced rock
I run through broken shells
Think of the fast feast
With my back to the sea
The oyster catcher watches close
Down on the wettest cliffs
Looking for the fattest pipi
As your tangling
Sand spat feet
Climb the tussock home
For You
This nightly light makes rooms from ash graves
And bird weep the edges of our walking
Here the corners of your body are mine to lie in
Your voice the first and last part of dark
I take it quick and am fuller than you knew
My brim washed well in a steam that will not break
We have not been solid for a moment
Our ashes scattering, hopeless and warm
To trust in dew to bring the smotes down