The little bird sings to me

sometimes I have to talk
like this out of both sides of my mouth
            rio rio rio

sometimes you are light
like harakeke, the whisper of it
            rio rio rio

sometimes you are heavy
like the blood oath of pounamu
            rio rio rio

I sit in silence at the top of the tree
angry voices rise up all around me
            rio rio rio

I can see you standing in the middle of the field
you are ankle deep in mud
                                               you are blowing on a whistle
            rio rio rio

Bernadette Hall

This is a new poem, a bit of a surprise to me. I have been working more in prose recently. On March 17 at the City Art Gallery in Ōtautahi Christchurch, my YA short story ‘The Girl Who Was Swallowed by Ice and Snow’ will be launched. It is a collaboration with the Dunedin artist, Kathryn Madill,  1,800 words from me and 17 paintings from her. Set in an Antarctic dreamscape, it explores the phenomenon of silence, the kind of silence the young can vanish into. To save themselves. As I did when my dad died in front of me when I was 16 years old. His Irish heart giving out. So it has taken me 22 years to make this artwork. How wonderful to celebrate the making now with Kathryn.

The launch of The Girl who Was Swallowed by Ice and Snow, Bernadette Hall and Kathryn Madill collaboration, March 17th.