Wootton, Sue: Almanac
On the Manuherikia River
drawl the final syllable. It is already ten.
Such precocious laziness, this reluctance, this soft-stroking
they do better. Enough and whenever. Then.
black blanket. See – there they are, the stars,
for the firmament, no dazzling total. The hills lie still,
when light fell off them, weight of shadow. From the running vein
is far under, the charts say due at dawn. This is the world ticking