Thursday, February 27, 2014

Passing Through

Dozens and dozens,
a hundred or more
seagulls are passing through
the sea-soaked bastion
of Shag Point,
just south of Oamaru. 
They call, they call,
they call again
as they glide on by;
a quick hello before they glide
into a southern night. 

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

One of Three

Why is it that miles add
to loss? A country between
two was enough to cause
painful realization, but
an ocean? I am lost here,
unsure of my albatross
because Coleridge can
tell me no more. I have
followed poetic instruction
but the steps lack finality.
I can no longer be without
this thought, it is a lesson
I daren’t unlearn. All the same,
it is something I wish I had
never been taught. Some say

knowledge is more important,
some say faith; I am of
unfortunate circumstance.
I am of the knowledge that
no certainty is known, yet
also of the knowledge no
known faith is true. As such,
I cannot put pain aside
for hope despite hope
being all I yearn for. I feel
every unit of separation,
and can do nothing to appease
distance or pain. I am a man
lost in a sea of unsurety,
desire my sole companion.