He tangi mō Majella
Majella Cullinane, 1975-2026

Reading her and now, beyond, a thrush descants
and warbles, in next door’s monumental elm, scattering waves
of seeds. The blue world sighs yet will not mourn.

Just once, an honour: our interview, for a festival you
could not be, in person. My notes told me of all you cited:
Pablo Neruda, Dante and Yeats, the great Anne Sexton,

deep experience. Even so, you came to Blackball.
Even so, you held the floor, you hushed the room.
I wish I had your Gaelic now – moe mai rā, e hine!

26.10.26

Jeffrey Paparoa Holman