new zealand electronic poetry centre


 Capital of  the minimal
B i l l  S e w e l l


(for Bunty & Eric Herd)

A landscape which lets us let go of time.
Rocks which might be ruins, but are not:
far older, they have twisted their shadows
away from the sun and held back time.
everything slows down there (excepting time)
into a routine which has no tedium:
parts of the day for assembling, for gin,
steak, Scrabble; others for ambling away

To vegetable patch, siesta, the hunt for rabbits
or mushrooms; whatever. Like the rocks these
are constants, however quickly they vanish

So we can understand, that in the summer,
when its time for the lamp at last, the light
wants to linger, making the far land glow.

[from MTFLG, McIndoe]


The Estate of Bill Sewell 2004


Last updated 10 July, 2004