new zealand electronic poetry centre
   Capital of  the minimal
J e a n n e   B e r n h a r d t
New Poems


Sad tree, your broken top so
immeasurably for and against
Must Enter
not exactly as yourself
but called to life
And tell of these
"little happinesses"
the sun
& corners of the morning
where even grief is brightly lit
to be hung on the tree, to shine
through the 'holder'
old tree, broken back, your
burnt honey comb,
has run wild out of options, flooded


Jeanne Bernhardt 2004



Last updated 13 July, 2004