an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248

Poems by David Gough

This Beach

David Gough

Published on
page 39 of Tarot #2
(June 2021)

If I could love you with a place, I would love you with this.
And if I could colour my soul, I would—
in this sun and this sea.

To cover all this dark and hurt in humanity,
beneath the glow of sand;

and my hand would trace, as it has done before,
the now that is just now so

The sea drags against my feet.
The wind tugs at a sleeve:
it’s this—
this place.
I meet my everyone:
they are here who I breathe.

The Rustle of Things

David Gough

Published on
page 54 of Tarot #2
(June 2021)

So, light to the sombre and dark—
some other’s word and warm.
        I keep a soul shrouded.
        I hide, I shiver;
        in the corners, loom the edges of
        a frost and night.
And while we grow—
        while we keep ourselves alone, perhaps,
and feel so much the rustle of things that otherwise hide,
we are that, more than this endless
that dance around us, that only others—
that only love provides.