TURBINE | KAPOHAU

JO MCNEICE

 

Aro Valley

 

I want to take

your picture.

The silver blue

mist moving

over the pine trees,

the Edwardian houses

running backwards

up the hillside,

the road running

slower than myself.

The sky a kind of

silver screen,

the moon is out tonight.

A neon TV.

A noticeboard.

The buttery light

melting out of the chip shop

and into the indigo air.

The weeds tripping up

the fences, the flowers

tripping up the weeds.

The night about to settle

in for the night.

But pausing before

it closes the door.

Relax. I think you look

just wonderful.

I imagine you can tell

I want to take your picture.