Dunedin, Winter Evening
(St Clair Park)
Can be found in the wet gorse
alone in this quiet city of a wild latitude.
a muscle of cold mist.
across the damp silence.
Wherever winter language is
down a roadside grate.
Just a comforting white fenced edge.
Rain, Christmas Eve
The evening is a faded green aperture of wet.
A clear translation of a recently mowed lawn.
step beyond the dripping tangle of birch
Or perhaps the low sky itself.
that wished for, hoped for communion.
To stand in the entrance
at the rain.
the wet pine,
through the continued
Michael Hall lives in Bay of Plenty, New Zealand. He makes a trip to sunny Dunedin 3 to 4 times a year to visit his partner’s family. His poems have popped up in a few places, including Landfall, NZ Listener, Poetry NZ and Takahe.