new zealand electronic poetry centre

Bernadette Hall


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LACEWORK


The poems must be of metal;
Etruscan iron cut clean, sharp,
tough as the lacework on the verandah
at Dundas Street, bristling with mosses,
cobbled webs, bird shit, rust enough;
thrusting bright chunks of hills, of sky
into my narrowed eyes; holding up my roof.    

 


From HEARTWOOD (Caxton Press, 1989)
Bernadette Hall
 


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Last updated 24 March, 2005