Once upon a time in New Zeal-and…




My lips have been pinched by crisp New Zealand mists

And I long to be a seal bathing in voluminous vats of leathery seaweed

In an ocean that matches my heart in bitterness and storm.

The eagle whose eye is on me as I wind along the coast line

drifts with the same wind that curls my hair.

‘I’ve gone wild’ I say.

‘My travelling woman…’ he says.

‘Yes you have.


Yes you can’.

My Army of Me.

Calling moon.

Calling gargantua boulder.

Calling brittle pine

smooth pebble and feather find.

Calling padded barefoot wildling

Calling winter and spring

Calling surface of the sea from the abyss

mountain crevices and caves

sticky stamen and hungry bee.

Calling earths name- Mother, Sister –

Stand around me

Walk with me

Breathe with me

Dance with me.

(Army of me)

Unite with me.

I know no other that understands the sharpening of teeth and the flexing of claws

The whirling circular effervescence

The erratic yet.con.stant.beat.

The watershed, the eruption and the soft kneeling

The yesteryear

The now

And the hope for a better tomorrow.

I am sore and I am weary.

But I am also hungry

Feed me. My gut is desiring.

My legs,








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