new zealand electronic poetry centre

 

Graham Lindsay


online works


 
Playground


The sunís hot on the playground
the bell has rung and what have we learned?

Maybe this one thing, maybe some other
pebble-weights in our brain!

Only a few things are for sure
mostly to do with time.

So we got out of that classroom at the end of primary school
and we got out of that classroom at the end of high school

and where are we?
Epochs have passed

the spring of morning, autumn of afternoon
middayís shadowless mysteries

on the fencerail overlooking the playground
two five-year-olds rolling down a bank kissing

Flagstaff sinking in mist and dusk
we are here and we donít know how.

 

From Big Boy (Auckland: AUP, 1986)
© Graham Lindsay


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Last updated 23 December, 2003