an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248

All Editions

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

when a tree falls in our forest

There’s an unexplainable warmth
of the moon
of the bottom of the lake

Where we hang elegies beneath the water
for the trees cut without a sound

There’s a magpie that sleeps alone in the cherry tree
adorned in sterling loneliness
A raven that steals lines of conversation
back to its quietest nest.

There are the candles of our voices catching on every curtain
The boiling of sap beneath our skin.

There’s a comfortable torture
of being apart, of being together—
a violent indifference to the forest fires
beneath our feet.

Too many things axe-to-wood split
between us.
So many things axed
before they could be said.