John Adam’s poem for Neve

 

Small hook

He iti, ahakoa he pounamu hoki

 

From the cord’s end, the catch produced

her jawbone hook. A thousand pencils

 

sharpened to this soft point, time

took a new first breath. The boat

 

seemed smaller, we noticed more keenly

the breeze, the chop, the nation

 

hushed. Metaphor cannot hold her,

she is like and unlike all the others,

 

only the plainest best words

will serve for our prime miniature.

 

©John Adams 2018

 

 

John is an Auckland-based poet.

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