an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248

All Editions

Tarot #07
Tarot #06
Tarot #05
Tarot #04
Tarot #03
Tarot #02
Tarot #01


This house breathes.
I hear it
In the depths of night
Gentle and even like a heartbeat.
After the rain
I go outside
And smell her breath
Sweet and strong to remind me
Of those who have come before.
Sometimes I think she might swallow me up.
She looks scarred and hungry
And then she falls silent for days
And I fear she might have slipped away
But no.
She is here.
She reaches out to me
In the fleeting moments
On a Tuesday afternoon
When the sun washes the surface
Of the world
And warms the insides of my eyelids
And lifts me up like a child.
She is breathing even now.