new zealand electronic poetry centre
  
 

 

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

Sutton

(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.
                                                                   So
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 it’s 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


 


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Last updated 10 July, 2004