primeval obelisk you found
silent seepings through sediment, steepings of milky groundwater
from glass-slimed clotting silt this stone gleam unwound
guilelessly palmed Palaeozoic charm from the Vredefort crater
silent seepings through sediment, steepings of milky groundwater
alliance of zinc and silicate: longing and light against magma’s gravity
guilelessly palmed Palaeozoic charm from the Vredefort crater
the earth is one and releases you from patrimony
alliance of zinc and silicate: longing and light against magma’s gravity
earthplated mantle and crust sang their gigabyte mantras so sweetly
the earth is one and releases you from patrimony
the earth belongs to no one and is molten eternity
earthplated mantle and crust sang their gigabyte mantras so sweetly
as you took your leave of the farm, its soil folding back into night
the earth belongs to no one and is molten eternity
a small stone here on your desk in Canadian mica light
12.
farm road bluegum and pine avenue
gridgate flooded shut rusted storehouses
wind pump collapsed stone walls
deserted settlements in the distance dilapidated farm school
broken border wires midday clouds building
overgrown orchard mutilated apples
burst dam khaki-weed cocklebur
blackjack old mulberry tree plovers
owl droppings under the slaughtering tree iron harrow in the cat-thorn
pepper tree shade karee shadow
quince avenue a wild rose hedge
chicken coop poles gaping gate
and the house someone is still living in the house in the morning walks
out into the yard and raises her hands like gold pomegranates
13.
old yard
wind that blows through bluegums in the yard rustles
like no other wind in bluegums
a wind becomes briny and disconsolate
carving heart-high sounds of tatters and
deathlight hardbaked exhausted
dejected earth that staggers and fails
to come to terms with the misery of
devil’s thorns of wind-chafed trunk-scars
of grief’s fibres and the tenacious stand of resistance
a sheep bleats unpreserved
a forehead-cleft of drought in my father
after all the years we gurgle (the only outlasting ones)
burdened with dying light and bloodsick with heritage
: the new ones prepare to enter the yard
Sunday lunch
everyone’s home
I cook the world as food
is a humanised world
to cook is an act of courtesy
the kitchen steams in golden batter
of laughter wine and spices
the umbilical cord between us and the world
is the casserole – Grandma Dot’s casserole
in the oven – stuffed with rosemary
and garlic ingots the joint sizzles
every burning bush is a holy bush but
he who presides over leg of lamb is a priest
I boil rice as if I’m caring for little children
with a grain of nutmeg I praise creation
scrubbed carrots begin to glow from within
in butter and ginger they find a true
voice beans plunge into white pepper and fennel
a salad spoon reveals a flash of currants softly
clicking jewels of naked olive cherry tomato and
almond the deepest precision of pumpkin arrives
at the table the eaten-of-abundance-world
is a beloved world a meal that overflows
with warmheartedness’s blessed
sounds yes, feeding people is a moral deed
a resurrection. my exuberant family sits down to eat –
suddenly brittle in their enoughness their un-
scathed selves our all-still-togetherness. we praise
easy generosity as the great sufficient Guarantee.
The takers of the earth take hands.
(after Martin Versfeld)
loss
I find myself
for the sorest time
in the crowd of burnt ones
the unchronicled burnt-apart ones
woundshot and heartshattered
we walk stooped over
our thirsting chests heavy with splintered downward-plunging sounds
I bid him farewell
this child of mine
