Alan Brunton

  
Lacrimosa

in memoriam, Alan Brunton 

Use no words but the sound of
recite and as the sea rolls
in, returning from its secret life 
away and bringing
exotic bits and exotic 
pieces    

realise this really is the sea and not just
a tally of cold waves or numbering
of days. It will shake
its shaggy head, haul itself from
the depths, raise a voice 
insistent -- argh! –

against the high wind. 
No tears (lacrimosa) 
but a body of water and the way a sound
travelled across it much 
faster than on land, in big
bounds. If there was a storm

you would see a man
and seagulls sheltering in the inlet
of the Island Bay library
searching for clues among 
the flotsam
what the sea brought, searching
 
on behalf of the general
populace, who go about their business
thinking it was god 
and sometimes thanking god
for the great good fortune 
of the sea.

Anne Kennedy

Auckland 

From Writing Island Bay (Bumper Books, 1997)

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Last updated 27 November, 2002