Shimmer tucked behind a yearning—
faces of strangers on familiar footpaths,
benches.

Some frown, burrow into pockets,
handbags, buses, and
age concern, kids kicking the tills.
A hand in lost goods, a river crossing,
a bike in the stones.

They take and they take and they take and they take—
they take.

Till death on the stairwell of a house party.

So ka whawhai tonu mātou—
ake, ake, ake...
ake, ake, ake.

Go as far as you can drive on a tank of gas,
taking the gravel road so it kicks up and spits
in the sideways rain, the everywhere rain, the anywhere sky.
Close your eyes at the brink of eclipse.

To see a red jaguar in a garage,
doors barricaded,
a note that says:

"I have no intention whatsoever
to harm myself."

Yet the crunch of autumn begins again,
and oh—
the joy of finding white rose petals
at the bus stop.