LEFT

1

There were no words                         
sun meant shadow                              
beyond                                                

objects but only if                               
there were                                          
objects to strike –                               

say a bell, my flower                           

2

The infantry uniform                        
worn by a ghost; that water-bottle      
dented                                                    

by the weight of memory –                 
they must be                                                
left                                                       

3

The shade takes men                         
left together                                       
where every face belongs                    

to an apostle. I've forgotten               
my orders,                                          
the name of my father                                   

4

Difficult to know let alone say          
for certain. Leave it                           
be                    

like a glass of wine on a ferry rail      
red against red when the sun                      
drowns in the unsaid                         

Sydney Bridge upside down                

OVER

I could repeat
in Hunter Valley vineyards
no: I was subject to

understanding and stuff, meaning
things such as
the bucket of grapes

opened to the sky, an echo

carried through barracks and bivouacs then
lost in the great offensive
by whomever (who can say?)

an inscribed Bible stuffed with love letters
creased like the forehead of an ANZAC
behind the lines

their voices left right 
We’re all Australians now
in the past, in Jerusalem         

where Hemi is, I've ignored
the gorse against my legs
scratching

when sunset stirs the shift worker
to fill a crankcase with raindrops, leave it
because

beauty is arbitrary rather than necessary, being
repeats itself, selfless
except for

Auckland Harbour Bridge’s car lights swimming