in the jungle of just
where we happen
vale my great friend, Gina
Ghioni
in the music of rain
a bright patch
where we saw the whales
it was all the world outside
world indoors as well
with little leaping hound at home
we were a couple of pups once
not long
but both building persistent
knocked about
kicked around
in conversation
in print and by gestetner
I blind to much and you knew
were picturing
piano too
and I guitar
quick quipped Byronic
(on the Bucketing Downs)
and the sea was yours
is
we were in China
in Markwell, in Christchurch
on the train, afoot
there’d always be when and next
years nothing away
till now
you’d love the light here
a flutter
squirrel up
first shadows
forest thereof
hills rolling away
moments like this
I go into a poem
where
you are the roof and the walls
and the style
you know
this is what I do
you live in
a wry purple
not mine
you are always making
dear friend you’re with me
here now
almost autumn
the leaves though still
all green as far as the eye
now the sun comes up
without itself
the rest of us left bereft
go on with the ache of you gone
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