Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Tuesday Poem: Translucent

Crossing the Rimutakas, going home,
and the scraped landscape is in the thick
of it – although thick isn’t the word, really
– tender the cloud stroking the cut earth,
tender the light as it feels its way through.
All is gauzy. Filtered. The blue
of the sheep truck we lose on the bends
the only colour. See, Helen, you can
touch clouds. Live in them, even. Tenderly,
we make our way up and over. So
light, so lit, we’re luminous. It’s like flying,
and all we talk about on the way down. 

Mary McCallum

Yes I have posted this poem before but I am doing it again because I'll be going over the Rimutakas this Saturday with fellow poet John Horrocks in my speedy Suzuki Swift to take part in the Greytown Arts Festival.

When we get there, I'll be leaving this poem in unexpected places as part of a groovy little event called Free Delivery. John and Saradha and Pat and Madeleine and a bunch of other poets will join me. A great idea by Wairarapa local Madeleine Slavick who has also organised a poetry reading at 5 pm on Saturday in the Village Art Shop for us all. Believe me, it will be fun. Wairarapa poetry gigs always are. 



3 comments:

Claire Beynon said...

A GORGEOUS poem, Mary. Lucky those who come upon it on the other side of the Rimutakas. Have fun xo

Catherine said...

Yes, I recognised it instantly - and it is still lovely. It's a long time since I drove over the Rimutakas.

Helen Lowe said...

I hope you had a great time at the Arts festival, Mary.:) And nice to read the poem again.