Chain Lightning

A new poem from Murihiku, the tail of the land.

Chain Lightning

I who was harlequin, left jewelled green
on tor bulwark in baroque eyelid dream
through solar rays absorbed down gilt crevice,
salamander by lightning flash, storm-pillaged,
stock-still when matagouri counts each thorn,
I feel the tohunga within, while piercings drum
forecasts of breath that blows this land warm,
and cobwebs shade where mokomoko dart
from those rays gorgon-headed geckos bask;
before heavy clouds race their dark backing
over tussock hairshirt with flagellant hail.
As whistle stones flute higher and higher,
the sleet tattoos dirt to a blind white eyeball.

David Eggleton