new zealand electronic poetry centre


Elizabeth Smither

online works
A few words from old postcards

It's dark at 4.30pm. That's your
London cum continent trip in 1996.
I raise a glass to you. Paris, outdoors.
The latest kind of snow-resisting lamps.

Just come from evensong in the Abbey.
(Bath). You were descending through
the layers of tourism to antiquarian books and textiles.
If this sounds choleric I have a raging 'flu.

The British Library is efficient but not beautiful.
Your red scarf wraps your shoulders like a cloak.
Anxiety is simply us trying to control events
from a distance
. Head bowed, I see you writing it.


Last updated 11 May 2001