new zealand electronic poetry centre


Bob Orr

online works

From a Bridge

Not far
from the Delta Tavern’s
tin roof –
kids diving
downstream from a bridge
off banks of coarse-grained river sand.
Their bodies
like pegs upside down
twisting into that green oblivion
the wide bend of its midsummer’s coolness.
On my table are books
a Waikato town
summer paddocks
a wide river.
But it is a bridge
that I must try to remember.
surface beneath it –
their hair
lacquered with light.
My childhood
held between their teeth
like a stick
that they throw to each other.

© Bob Orr

Last updated 11 May 2001