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.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s