Writing in Whangarei

Call to you – from Flights on Spirals of Placostylus

i call now to that winglet of flame that flickers in glowing sheets of combusting gas, i call the edge of leaves, the shape of mountains,

the vast greenery of the huge catchments that flow down through Amazonica, call to the hearts of whales that sonorous and deep make their way into the shallow bays that warm in inclines to that edge of mangrove and kahikatea on the fringe of the Piako Plain,

that delta, call to weta in the litter and cicada on tree trunks sunning themselves, call to passages of oystercatcher and stilt probing the cockle banks with crabs, call to you all,

those wet and gleaming frogs, call to you the lizards and skinks basking and shedding skins, call to the fragrant mass,

the community of trees and ferns, call to winds that spiral across, call to the silver dusks that play on quiet bays,

the sweat of clouds that beach themselves on the promintory spire of steep incized mountain ranges, call to you the dolls that play with patterns of arms and legs, cloth moulded around torsos and the parallactic curve of breasts, call to you,

those prints the long tressle of hair plaited and intersewn with feathers and thin strips of silk, and diamonds of leather hung together, and the sway of hips,

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